


The Girl Next Door

by jordanna01



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Everyone is LGBT+, F/F, F/M, Helene is a little sad but Marya helps her with that, Helene is a math GOD, Helene moves in next door, M/M, Marya is anxious and bad at math, Marya is baby gay disaster, Marya is head over heels for Helene, Marya starts off insecure but gradually becomes more confident with the help of Helene, Modern AU, Natasha is clueless, Okay mostly everyone is LGBT+ except for Pierre and Andrey, fedya is something else, i dont know what else to tag this umm, theyre all in high school
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:09:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25078165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jordanna01/pseuds/jordanna01
Summary: Helene moves in next door to MaryaMarya ascends to gay panic
Relationships: Fyodor "Fedya" Ivanovich Dolokhov/Anatole Vasilyevich Kuragin, Marya "Mary" Nikolaevna Bolkonskaya/Sofia "Sonya" Alexandrovna Rostova, Marya Dmitryevna Akhrosimova/Elena "Hélène" Vasilyevna Kuragina, Pyotr "Pierre" Kirillovich Bezukhov/Natalya "Natasha" Ilyinichna Rostova
Comments: 47
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

“Okay Marya, you got this. Just one more chapter and then you'll finally be able to get some sleep.” 

  
Normally, Marya didn't have to work up the courage to finish her studying, it's just this damned calculus work that's got her thrown into a loop. Every time she thinks she understands a topic or a lesson, more and more letters just get added into the equation. Why does it all have to be so complicated and confusing? This is why history is her favorite subject. Everything is already there; nothing to figure out. 

Sitting at her old wood carven desk, she wrote out the equation in her notebook, checking precisely she'd written it down correctly. It takes her a longer amount of time to actually solve the problem, as it was one of the more difficult ones. 

“Yess, finally finished!” she sighed, sliding her pencil back into its holder. Confident that she had the correct answer, she looked back at her textbook for the real answer. 

  
“Whaat?? How?! I did everything correct!”   
Matching up her steps with the steps of the textbook she realized her mistake. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I forgot to distribute.”    
Dumbfounded by her stupid mistake, she erased the work she spent the last 20 minutes on. 

In every other subject, Marya excels. In English 101 she currently has a 96%. In History - 104% (she never misses an extra credit opportunity). Chem she holds a 94%. Even in her elective class, debate - she has 89%. A B+, not the best but still not that bad. 

She's about to tackle the problem again when her phone  _ ‘pings’ _ . She merely glances over at the phone on her bed, and then puts her attention back to her work. 

_ ‘Ping!’ _

Again

_ ‘Ping!’ _

Again Again. 

Her attempts at ignoring the phone are getting harder and harder. And this math work is probably the main contributor. 

_ ‘Ping!’ _

She slams the textbook shut, and wheels her wheely chair over to the end of her bed, grabbing her phone. She isn't that surprised to see text messages from her two best friends, Natasha Rostova and Sonya Rostova. 

**Natasha:** Maryaaaa!

**Sonya:** Marya, did u hear the news?

**Natasha:** New student at school! Cute boy

**Sonya:** Actually, two new students. Siblings most likely. 

**Sonya:** Nat, how do you even know he's a cute boy?

Marya shakes her head at the pair of cousins, chuckling to herself. Natasha, Sonya and Marya have all known each other since they were small. She remembers how they would all play after Sunday service. Natasha would always manage to get herself in trouble. Sonya would advise Natasha not to let her curiosity get the best of her. As for Marya, she did not want any part of it. Instead, she chose to read silently to herself as it was best to stay out of trouble than to be in the midst of it. 

And even after all these years, Natasha is still finding trouble (or rather trouble finds her); Sonya is still helping Natasha out of it, and Marya is just keeping to herself. 

Marya responds to the group message. 

**Marya:** oh really? How did you two find out about this?

**Natasha:** Fedya told me about it. Apparently he’s friends with the boy. He also said he is very cute. 

**Sonya:** Dolokhov told Nat about the boy. I found out about the other new student when Mr. Balaga announced that we’d be having a new addition to our drama class. Thought we oughta pass on the news. 

**Sonya:** Nat, you and Dolokhov might be in a battle for this boy. If he isn't already dating Dolokhov that is. 

**Marya:** What's his name?

**Natasha:** Fedya isn't into guys Sonya. And his name is Anatole.

**Sonya:** … u sure abt that?...

Fedya Dolokhov. One of the male friends of the girls. He met Natasha during freshman year chorus class. Natasha then introduced him to Sonya and Marya. They all immediately clicked. Sometimes they even stay up late and paint their nails while being on facetime with each other. Sonya and Natasha paint each others, while Dolokhov paints his own. Marya doesn't paint her nails, but she does listen to the wacky conversations. Her friends are really something else. 

**Marya:** I think Fedya has made it very clear he's attracted to men, Natalie

**Sonya:** his wallpaper on his phone is a picture of hugh jackman with tiny little rainbow hearts.

**Marya:** doesn't he also own a tee shirt that says something like “homo is where the heart is”???

**Natasha:** I just texted Fedya “are u gay?”. Let's wait for his response

Straying away from the current topic at hand, Marya remembered that Sonya had said “two new students”. Scrolling back up, she rereads the text message.

She's just about to type when a screenshot of another conversation pops up onto her screen. 

Natasha:

Are u gay?

Fed-ya-daddy:   
Yuh

  
  


**Natasha:** Hes gay. It's been confirmed

“Fed-ya-daddy?! What. the. hell Dolokhov?!?” Marya exclaims, chuckling a bit.    
She's about to comment on the username, but Sonya beats her to the punch. 

**Sonya:** And you thought this man was straight?!  _ Fed-ya-daddy??? _

**Natasha:** I don't know why I believed myself either…

**Marya:** lol

**Marya:** So who's the other new student? His brother? Sister?

  
  


Just at that moment, Marya heard a loud noise coming from a very large vehicle. She glanced outside her window to see a U-Haul truck pulling into the vacant driveway of the uninhabited home next to her own. The “For Sale” sign in the grass swung in the cool wind of the evening. Suddenly, three figures stepped out of the front portion of the truck. 

_ ‘Ping!’ _ _   
_ Marya diverted her attention from the bedroom window to the phone in her hand.

**Sonya:** Sister. Mr. Balaga said her name’s _‘Helene’_

**Natasha:** Anatole and Helene. Do you know if they're juniors too or underclassmen?

**Sonya:** Don't know

Marya glanced back over to look outside the window. Two teenagers, and presumably their father stood on the driveway, watching the movers carry a large black couch out of the back of the truck. Marya watched as the new family admired their new house. 

_ “No...it can't be.” _ Marya thought to herself.    
She studied the two teenagers outside her window. 

The taller, more muscular of the two had blonde colored hair which neatly swooped upwards, forming a point at the apex. His choice of fashion: Suave. Black leather jacket with golden buttons and a golden zipper. Underneath the jacket, he donned a plain white tee shirt. He wore black jeans, ripped at the knees. To match the rest of the ensemble, the chain in the belt loop of his jeans was golden as well. On his feet - black and white high top vans.

Just by looking at the boy, Marya could tell he was confident in the way he dressed. A good trait to have, but confidence can easily be mistaken for arrogance. 

_ ‘Ping!’  _

  
  


The girl on the other hand; she had darker hair than of her brothers. Brown, cascading curls draped over her shoulders. Her fashion sense: Regal. She wore a black, strapless romper patterned with thin white diagonal stripes, which showed her curves beautifully. The cream colored flats complimented her light skin tone. Around her right arm was a sterling silver bracelet with a feather embossed onto it. On her neck she had a thin black choker, with one pearl in the middle. It falled neatly on her freckled chest. A rhombus shaped diamond studded in her ear carried a silver chain which attached to a silver ear cuff that wrapped around the cartilage of her ear. 

Marya tried hard not to stare, thinking that would be a rude first impression, but she couldn't help it. Everything about this family looked so  _ wow.  _ The fashion, the hair, the bodies. If looks could kill, Marya’d be long dead by now. 

As the rest of the movers carried in the last of their boxes and other belongings, the smaller girl went to follow behind them. Marya’s gaze however did not go unnoticed. With a quick shift of her eyes, the girl caught sight of Marya through the glass panel that overlooked the watchers bedroom. 

“Shit shit shit!” She pretended to distract herself on her phone, but when picking up the device, it may have slipped out of her hands and fallen to the floor with a soft  _ “thud”.  _ She hoped that the new girl did not see that part. 

After collecting herself (and her phone), she looked back out the window. The girl was no longer there and Marya breathed a heavy sigh of relief. 

Looking back at her phone, a notification that was delivered 4 minutes ago was displayed on the screen. 

**One unread message!**

**Fedya:** Marya! Has anyone new been in your neighborhood recently? Like in the last 10 minutes kind of recently? Cause my friend Anatole just moved into town, and apparently his new house is in your neighborhood. 

She texts back:

**Marya:** He may or may not be my new next door neighbor....

**Fedya:** He's your neighbor?!?! Marya, expect me to make a lottttt more surprise visits to your house from now on.

**Marya:** You and Natasha both

**Marya:** Also… _ ’fed-ya-daddy’?? _

**Fedya:** do you get it?? It's a play on words!

**Fedya:** Cause I'm Fedya….but i also “Fed Ya Daddy” if yk what i meaannn

**Marya:** I know what you mean. You're disgusting. 

**Fedya:** wait hold up. back up. reverse uno draw four….  _ “You and Natasha both”??  _ What does that mean?

**Marya:** Take it up with Natasha

**Fedya:** Does this have something to do with her asking me if i was a homosexual?

**Marya:** Can you believe she never knew? She was completely unaware that you were gay. She thought you were straight!

**Fedya:** I have a shirt that says “Homo is where the heart is”.... Why would she - ???????/sczhcskkjvxck

**Marya:** I have no idea…

Marya glanced at the clock sitting on her bedside table. 

_ 10:32pm _

Deeming that it was now time for her to finally get some long awaited sleep, Marya pulled back her bedsheets and climbed in. She practically melted into the soft sea of warmth. A yawn escaped her mouth. 

**Fedya:** I'm gonna have to have a little chat with Natalie I see, soo goodnight Marya the Starya. 

**Marya:** Goodnight Fed Ya Daddy

Marya was just about to set her phone down on the bedside table when an alert popped up on her phone. 

**Fedya:** Oh almost forgot!! Can you slide me the answers for the test tomorrow?

Marya rubbed her eyes, making sure she read that correctly. Yup, that says  _ ‘test’ _ and  _ ‘tomorrow’  _ in the same sentence. 

**Marya:** WE HAVE A CALCULUS TEST TOMORROW?!?!

**Fedya:** Yes, weren't you paying attention? You're Marya, you always pay attention… unless you're not Marya……… 

It was indeed Marya, and she was indeed not paying attention in class today. Turns out, calculus and Marya are in fact mutually exclusive. When one is happening, the other is not. Today in class, Marya competed in a staring contest with the whiteboard. 

The whiteboard won. 

**Marya:** I'm afraid I cannot give you the answers. I have as great a chance at an A on the test than you do

The tired girl set down her phone and accepted her fate. She could practically hear the calculus textbook on her desk laughing at her, mocking her. 

_ DISTRIBUTE THEN DIVIDE? OR DIVIDE THEN DISTRIBUTE?? _

_ GRAPH THIS TRINOMIAL OR DIE - YOU CHOOSE _

_ YOU GOT CAUGHT STARING AT A PRETTY GIRL HAHAHA STUPID FUCK _

Wait how did her calculus textbook even know that???

She wasn't staring…. 

Okay maybe she was staring but what's important is that  _ ‘Helene’,  _ didn't see Marya make a complete fool of herself.

…...Maybe she did?...

Fuck.

  
  


**One unread message!**

**Fedya:** You didn't deny it


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ==== <\---- means a change in scenery and or time

Marya did not know what was worse. Failing the test that accounted for 30% of her grade or her new next door neighbor sitting right next to her in class. She made a complete ass of herself last night when she saw her. So much for first impressions.

The red headed girl stared at the test before her, unsure of every answer she made. She might've been able to get some questions correct if her mind wasn't so swarmed with thoughts of Helene. Did she see Marya last night? And if she did, what does she think of her? Probably not good things. 

Marya circled her answer on her test and moved on to the second page. 

At that moment, the brunette girl sitting next to her, rose out of her seat - test in hand, and walked to the teachers desk. 

_“She's already done?!”_ Marya was amazed. How was she already done with the six page test? It's been only 20 minutes. And here Marya’s just gotten to the second page. 

It seems the whole class was amazed as well because the minute Helene got up, many heads turned to follow the girl walking to the long desk at the back of the room. 

Dolokhov watched as she walked to the desk, and then turned to Marya. The expression on his face was utter amazement. Marya nodded in amazement back at him. 

Marya watched as the girl sat back down at her seat. She didn't seem to like the attention all that much as her eyes shifted from her classmates to her desk. 

She must've caught Marya staring cause her eyes locked to Marya’s, and her mouth formed a closed but warm smile. 

Marya began to feel her cheeks redden and averted her eyes back to her test. Even without looking at her, she could feel Helene’s eyes still on her, watching in amusement as she became visibly flustered. 

Marya tried to pick her pencil from off her desk, but she fumbled thus causing the pencil to fall to the floor, breaking the silence and stillness of the room. 

When she goes to reach for it, another pair of hands have already seem to have grabbed it. 

“Here you go.” Helene whispered to the red faced, redhead girl. 

Her voice alone was enough to make Marya melt. Marya never thought that the sound of someone's voice could make her flush but there she was, transfixed upon it. 

Sitting upright again, her eyes met Helene’s once more as she gently handed Marya her pencil. 

A lock of Marya’s hair fell in her face, as she accepted the pencil from her hand. 

A simple, “T - thanks” is all she could muster out. 

What happened next was something Marya could not have predicted. 

The brunette, with such care and tenderness, took the fallen lock of hair and placed it behind Marya’s ear. 

This left Marya completely and utterly speechless. Oh how fast was her heart beating! 

The way her finger brushed against Marya’s ear made Marya feel warm and fuzzy in her stomach. 

Marya had never felt this such way before. She’s had crushes before, but none of them ever made her feel like this. Granted, those crushes were all celebrities - they did not know of Marya’s existence. This was real - the tangibility of her feelings was sitting right in front of her. 

_“Woahh”_ was the only word Marya could use to describe the encounter that just took place. 

“20 minutes left on your tests!!” a loud voice from the back of the room exclaimed. 

_The test!_ Snapping her back to reality, the test on her desk was not even halfway completed. Still on the second page, Marya did not know what to do. She could give up and mark random answers, but this test was important. She couldn't run the risk of failing the class despite how much she loathed it. 

A small sigh of defeat escaped her mouth. 

In the corner of her eye she could see Helene fidgeting with her phone underneath her desk. 

_Perhaps she’s texting a friend or her brother?_ Marya pressed some buttons on her calculator, hoping the result was at least somewhat close to the options on the paper. 

_‘Plunk’_

A green mechanical pencil rolled over towards Marya’s desk. She didn’t need to wonder who the pencil belonged to, for it was quite obvious whose it was. 

She picked up the pencil from the ground quickly but stopped short when she saw the glow of a phone with the letter _‘B’_ in big bolded print, pointed towards her direction. 

She glanced back up at Helene, who had her head down on the desk, inconspicuously revealing her the answer to the problem she was working on. 

Smiling to herself, Marya circled the letter that the phone told her to. 

Admittedly, Marya had never thought of cheating on a test before, and certainly she did not think today was going to be the day that she would do so. But she isn't going to fail this test, that's for damn sure. 

Signaling she was ready to move to the next question, she sniffed a little, hoping her accomplice would hear. 

This seemed to have worked. Helene then shifted her weight, taking her phone back underneath her desk. 

Her fingers moved quickly to type the next answer, and Marya tried her best not to make herself look any more suspicious than she already was. Helene turned the phone towards her, and Marya shifted her eyes towards the screen. 

This routine went on for the next 10 more questions. Occasionally, the phone screen would have text written underneath the letter, that read something like:

“Get this one wrong so it doesn't look like cheating”

Or 

“Lol ur really bad at math”

Marya couldn't help but smile at that one. 

When class was over, everyone who did not previously turn in their tests were instructed to leave them on their desks face down. Helene gathered her bag, and stood to exit the classroom. 

Noticing this, Marya hurriedly flipped over her test, and stood to follow Helene out of the classroom. 

“Marya, wait up!” Fedya called after her. 

She glanced behind her to see Fedya approaching. She raised her finger to him, silently telling him _“just a moment.”_

Fedya gave her a small nod of the head, and leaned against the doorway of the classroom they just exited. 

Half jogging up to Helene, Marya tapped her on the shoulder. The curly haired girl whipped her head back and slightly looked upwards, being as though Marya was quite some heads above her. 

“I wanted to thank you for the help just now. I've never been good at math. Figuring out equations is not my strong suit.” She chuckled as a small smile arose upon Helene’s delicate face. 

“Oh uh…” Marya extended out her hand to Helene.

“My name is Marya… I believe your name is Helene?” Marya asked her, a little hesitantly. 

Helene shook her hand, gently. “Thats me. And up until this point I thought your name was _‘window girl’_ but Marya sounds much better.” she chuckled at her own joke. 

Marya chuckled nervously.

“Ahh, so you saw that huh? Well, so much for first impressions, am I right?” She scratched at the back of her neck - a nervous tendency. 

“Yeah, but that's alright. I'll just pretend that it never happened. I'm hoping I can meet you again at my father's welcoming gala tonight?”

The brown haired girl flashed a smile at the other girl while asking her question. 

Marya has never even been to a party before, let alone a gala. And she knew that gala’s were just fancy parties, but has Marya ever been the fancy type?! Her closet practically screamed homebody, and the last time she wore a dress was ages ago. It probably wouldn't even fit her now. 

“Gala… your father hosts gala’s? Not to be rude, but you just moved here...why on earth would he host a gal-” 

_‘Ring!’_

The loud bell sounded through the intercom, cutting Marya’s words off. 

In the bustle of all the people, it was hard to not get jostled around. 

“Gala’s at my house at 8 tonight!” Helene said in a slightly louder voice. 

“O - Okay.” said Marya as she watched Helene fade into the crowd of students in the small school hallway. 

“What was that all about?” A voice came up from behind her said, which she immediately recognized as Fedya.

She kind of forgot he was behind her, waiting for her. 

“Huh? Oh nothing, I was just introducing myself to the new girl. Helene.” She briefly glanced over to the crowd, to see if she could spot her but to no avail she was gone. All she saw was a sea of students rushing to get to next class before the next bell rang. 

Fedya was about to say something when Marya cut him short with her words. 

“I should probably get to chem. Can’t keep Natasha waiting.” 

And with that, she was off moving into the busy hallway. 

“See you at lunch Dolokhov!” the girl cried out, as she disappeared into the sea. 

Dolokhov sighed and turned to walk to his next class. 

Having seen the entire encounter that happened during math class, Dolokhov sensed something new in Marya. He saw the way her face flushed when Helene made a move on her. He saw the way her smirk arose on her face when she complied with cheating on the test. Helene brought out the more reckless and smitten side of Marya. A side of her Dolokhov didn't even know she had. 

Maybe it was best for him to keep quiet and watch how this played out. 

He entered the chorus room to see an exceptionally handsome man sitting in a chair by himself. 

A smile came over both of their faces once they saw each other from across the room. Dolokhov walked over to where the boy was sitting, and took his seat. 

“Fedya, long time no see.” The blonde boy said through a smile. His eyes lit up at the sight of seeing his friend after two long months. 

“I know you missed me, Anatole.” Dolokhov said, gazing into Anatole’s light blue eyes. 

Breaking away from his enchanting beauty, Dolokhov came back to his senses. 

“Hey, isn't the welcoming gala tonight?” He asks, remembering the text conversation he and Anatole had a few nights ago. 

“Yup… everytime we move to a new house, Father always makes it a point to host his parties the day after.” He sighed remorsefully, slightly shaking his head. 

Then a small smirk came over his face.   
“Why? You coming?” Anatole already knew the answer to the question he just asked. It's almost as if he asked Dolokhov, _‘Is the sky blue?’_

“If you don’t already have a date?” 

Dolokhov enjoyed this playful, flirtatious banter he and Anatole were having. He could really tell Anatole missed him, and in all honesty, Dolokhov missed him as well. 

Dolokhov first met Anatole when he worked in the local cafe last summer. Anatole was a regular customer. He came in every Tuesday at 6pm, just thirty minutes before closing time. Sometimes Dolokhov would make him an extra small coffee free of charge, which Anatole greatly appreciated by giving him large amounts of tips in the tipping jar. At some point in the relationship, Anatole stopped coming to the cafe for the coffee and Dolokhov stopped caring about the tips. 

On the days Dolokhov’s boss left early, he and Anatole would stay in the cafe after closing time and read books together, being as though the cafe had a small library of classical literature. Anatole would then walk Dolokhov back home to make sure he was safe as the night grew dark. 

He missed that very much, very much indeed. 

Without confirming or denying Anatole simply said, “I'll see you at eight then?”

Dolokhov gave him a slight nod of the head and a small smile. After two months of not seeing his... friend? Boyfriend? (He didn't know what the two were to be quite honest.) it felt nice to see his face again. 

As the teacher instructed everyone to sit in their respective vocal range groups, Dolokhov got up out of his seat, and moved to take his place with the other baritones. 

====

“Look at her Marya, she's so in love.” Natasha said, gesturing over to Sonya and Mary’s lab table. The two girls were giggling while the blue flame of the bunsen burner added to the heat in the air. 

“She's not our little Sonya anymore...” Marya said with a small pout on her face. 

“But she better be careful with that flame. Mary’s got her distracted.” she added, with a stern look on her face. 

As if Sonya had heard what Marya said, she immediately took notice of the flame and turned it off. Mary blushed, proud of the fact that she could make Sonya falter. 

“So, I was wondering if you had any dresses I could borrow tonight? I don't have any that can actually fit me.” Marya said to Natasha, not bothering to look up from her periodic table worksheet. 

“Dress?! Wait a second, you're going to the gala?! I thought you hated parties?” Natasha said full of glee. Out of all the people Natasha thought would attend a party, Marya was definitely last on the list. 

“I never said I hated parties, I've just never been to one is all. And the only reason I am going is because the people hosting the party are my new neighbors.” 

Marya located the element she has been searching for and wrote it down on her paper.

Marya also was hoping she could see more of the new girl who recently became the new proprietor of Marya’s thoughts, but she did not dare tell Natasha that. 

“The Kuragins are your new neighbors!” Natasha was practically falling out of her seat when she heard Marya say that. 

“Natasha, get a grip will you? And yes they are my new neighbors. It would be rude of me not to go. And can you please help me on this packet?”

Marya glanced over at the packet the two of them were supposed to be working on, but Natasha’s head’s been in the clouds and her mouth moved a mile a minute. 

Natasha gave her a heavy sigh, and picked up her pencil. 

“If I let you borrow a dress, can I also do your makeup?” Natasha pleaded with a grin on her face. 

“No.” Is all Marya said in response. 

“Fine.” Natasha rolled her eyes at the red head and focused her attention to the chemistry packet. 

====

“Just a little bit of eyeshadow Marya, it'll really bring out your eyes! Just a tiny bit! Plea-” Natasha protested with a make-up brush in hand and palette in the other. Marya cut her off with her stern and stiff demeanor. 

“I don't even know why you brought that stuff when I told you I did not want to be done up.” 

Marya slipped on a pair of her best flats. She was already a taller woman, heels would have been too much. 

“But what if you meet someone! Marya, you have to look your best at these things. You could meet your future love. You never know.” Natasha came from behind Marya and looked at her in the mirror. 

Maybe Natasha was half right. One did need to look their best at a gala. Marya didn't know about the whole _future love_ talk, but she was certain that there was going to be someone at the gala that she could possibly impress. 

“I suppose a little eyeshadow won't hurt…”

Natasha’s smile grew wider and wider. 

“Maybe a little lipstick as well, but that's it. Nothing more.” 

Marya let Natasha make her up. Marya did not enjoy the feeling of the brush on her eyelid. It felt like she was being gently stabbed. But she did admit the final result looked nice. 

The soft hue of red, really did bring out Marya’s eyes. This went well with the dark shade of red lipstick painted across her lips. And the dress really tied the look together. The long black gown, just barely touched Marya’s ankles - Natasha was considerably shorter than her. 

She admired how she looked in the full length mirror on her closet door. The jewels that dangled from the gown reflected in the glass. 

“You look beautiful Marya. Very stunning.” Natasha complimented from behind. 

“Thank you, so do you.” She said, turning her head towards the young girl. 

“Are we ready to go?” Marya asked, extending her hand towards Natasha. 

Natasha smoothed her gown once she stood up off the bed. 

“I think so!” She took Marya’s hand, and they both exited the bedroom. 

Just then, there was a knock on the front door of the house. 

Marya looked puzzled for she had no idea who the visitor could be. 

“Were you expecting anyone?” Natasha asked as Marya made her way down the stairs and to the front door. 

“No…” 

She looked out the peephole of the door, and chuckled to herself opening the door. 

There stood a wide eyed Dolokhov with disheveled hair and a black tie in hand. 

“Marya, I need help tying my tie.” He said, holding up the long piece of fabric. 

“Come in, Fedya.” Marya took the tie from his hand and let him into her home, closing the door behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of Marya/Helene content in here. With a dash of Dolokhov/ Anatole. And a sprinkle of Sonya/ Mary.   
> Thanks for reading!  
> ~ Jordi


	3. The Gala: Marya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is mainly Marya's perspective of the gala. Next chapter will be Helene's.

“So Natalie, did you tell Natalie about what happened in class today?” Dolokhov said, holding his head up as Marya tied the fabric around his shirt collar. 

“No, what happened in class Mar?” Natalie turned her head to face Marya. 

Not bothering to look at her, as her cheeks were becoming more warm with color, she simply just waved the question with a simple,    
“Oh nothing. There was just a test is all.”

She finished tying the knot on Dolokhovs tie and straightened it out. 

“Oh really? Just a test?” He parroted, repeating Marya’s words. 

“What do you call that eye to eye action with that new girl then? Cause I would call it flirting.” Dolokhov plopped down on the living room sofa.    
  


Natasha's eyes widened with shock and disbelief.   
“Marya you were flirting?!” 

“No I was not flirting! I was just looking at her and she just happened to be looking at me!”

The redheaded girl marched to the front door, leaving Natasha and Dolokhov in the living room. 

“Now that Dolokhov’s tie has been tied, can we leave now?” She began to turn the handle on the door, when Dolokhov began to speak. 

“Yeah, and then after that, she did that thing with your hair. Man you were so red!” 

Marya turned back around, and marched back into the living room. 

“I was no -”

She began before Natasha interjected.   
  
“Wait what thing?”   
Natasha said, darting her eyes between Marya and Dolokhov with a wide smile on her face, clearly amused by the conversation they were having. 

“Her hair fell in front of her face, and then Helene just took it, and put it behind her ear. Real smooth like.”

Dolokhov said grinning at Marya. 

  
“Marya!” Natasha got up out of her seat, practically jumping to Marya. 

“That's flirting! She was flirting with you.”

Natasha hugged the very visibly uncomfortable Marya. 

“Can we leave now?” She asked, while making her towards the door - wanting no parts of their conversation. 

“Wait, is this why you let me put makeup on you? So you could impress her? Ohhhh Marya!”

Natasha became giddy the more she put the pieces together. 

“But wait, that's not even the best part! She even helped Marya cheat on the math test.”

Dolokhov said, from behind Natasha. 

“You cheated on your math test? Woah, Marya, that's a federal offense. I'm afraid you've broken the law.” 

She shook her head, jokingly at the girl standing in front of her. 

“Arrest her.”   
Dolokhov whispered in Natasha’s ear. 

“Well no because ACAB ya know.” she whispered back to him. 

“Oh right right.” He nodded his head in agreement with her. 

Marya eyed the both of them. 

“I'm leaving now.” Growing impatient with the two in front of her, Marya opened the front door of her house, and stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind herself.    
  


Not long after Marya had closed it, Natasha opened the door again.    
“Okay, okay we're sorry Marya.” She chased after the girl, who was already on the driveway. She made sure to hold on to her gown as she walked. 

“Yeah we're sorry. Don't be like that.” Dolokhov stopped in front of her, as he jogged his way out of the house. 

“It's alright that you like her. We’re just happy for you.”

Natasha elbowed the other girl. 

“I just get nervous when things like that are brought up - crushes. And with Helene its still so new, but its something my heart has never felt before… I hope she likes me back.”

Marya gazed her eyes over to her neighbors house. 

The line of black limousines on the side of their very much suburban street was seemingly endless. Marya could tell the Kuragina’s were of high wealth and status. Why was moving to the middle of the suburbs their optimal choice? Why would Helene ever want to be with her, when she could have so much better?...

“Marya, you're a great girl, a great friend… you're honestly one of the best people I know. Why wouldn't she like you back?”

Natasha smiled at Marya. 

“Yeah, and plus you can totally get to know her better at this gala thing! I'm sure you two will really hit it off.”

Dolokhov added to the compliment. 

Marya smiled at both of her friends. Sure, they can be two asses at times, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

“Cmon, lets go.” Natasha grabbed Marya’s hand as they walked onto the driveway of The Kuragina’s. 

The faint sound of violin and piano could be heard from the outside of the house. 

Natasha rang the doorbell of the elegant home. 

Opening the door, an energetic voice began to say. “Hello, welcome to The Kuragina Welcoming Gala.” 

Marya could tell he’s said that sentence more than once today.

A smile began to make its way onto Dolokhov’s face. 

“Hello Dolokhov.” Anatole said, looking him up and down. 

“Anatole.” He eyed the other boy up and down as well. 

Anatole then took his hand and kissed it. Dolokhov could feel his heart begin to swell. 

The two girls gave each other knowing looks. 

“Ah! Where are my manners? Hello ladies, I’m afraid I do not know your names?” 

He shifted his head between looking at Marya and Natasha. 

“Natasha Rostova.” she smiled at the blonde boy. 

“...And this is Marya Arkhrosimova.” she gestured to the friend on her right.

“Ah, Dolokhov has told me about you. You're friends with my sister.”

This caught Marya off guard. Could Dolokhov be any more of a blabbermouth?!

“Um yes, but I'm also your next door neighbor.” She pointed at the house next to the one she was standing in front of. 

“Oh, well I invite you into my home, new neighbor and her friends.” 

They all walked into the home. Apart from the scattered crowd of people, the home was strangely un-decorated. The few specks of furniture, like couches and chairs were there, but that was about it. 

They probably did not have time to unpack, as they were preparing for the gala. 

A man in a black and white tuxedo holding a tray of champagne, came up to greet the trio. 

“Oh we can’t sorry, we're under -” Marya stopped short when she saw a hand wrap around the glass. 

“Thank you kind sir!” Natasha said, before she lightly sipped the alcoholic beverage. 

“Natasha!” Marya was about to scold her for doing such things. 

“Oh no it's fine, at the Kurgina residence we don't shy away from alcohol. Just don't get too drunk to the point where we have to call an emergency ambulance.” 

Anatole chuckled a bit. 

Marya was at a loss for words.

“It's happened before.” He whispered to them, in a more serious tone. 

They all stare at each other in silence for a bit. 

Dolokhov decided to break the silence. 

“So Anatole, you wanna show me around the house for a bit?” 

He smiled at the blonde boy, who in turn smiled back.    
  


“Of course.” He said, taking Dolokhov’s arm. 

“Ladies, make yourselves at home. The hors d’oeuvres will be around shortly.” 

They began to make their way up the stairs. 

Marya and Natasha walked into the living room, where many people were gathered. The music of the violin and piano players accompanied the room.

“So do you see her?” Natasha turned to Marya. 

“No not yet.” The girl looked around to find bouncy brown curls, but to no avail she could not. 

“Okay, well I'll be around. I see this really handsome guy over there.” She pointed inconspicuously to a tall man in an all white suit. 

“I'm gonna go talk to him.”

Natasha beamed at her friend. 

“Be careful Natasha, we don't know these people. And promise me you wont drink too much champagne tonight?”

Marya held on tight to her friends hand. 

“Relax Mar, I'm gonna be okay.”

Natasha began to walk off, but was jerked back.

“Promise?...”

Marya eyed Natasha, giving her a serious yet concerned look. 

“I promise Marya.” The smaller girl said, looking back at her. 

Marya loosened her grip on Natasha’s hand and watched her walk away towards the man. 

He looked about Marya and Natasha’s age, possibly a few years older. Marya could not deny that he was quite handsome. He had short hair, and muscular arms. He had a soft smile that could make a woman swoon. No wonder Natasha found him interesting. 

He seemed to be talking to an older gentleman at the time. Marya couldn't imagine what about. Everyone here looked so regal and elegant, but that was because they  _ were _ regal and elegant. That was their lives. Marya was not fancy at all. She couldn't help but feel like a sore thumb sticking out, trying her hardest to blend in. 

She decided to stand in the corner of the room, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself. She looked around nervously, suddenly feeling like it was a mistake for her to have come. But Helene did invite her. Would it be rude of Marya to come to the gala per request and then leave when the parties barely even started? 

_ I'll stay here for another hour.  _ She told herself. 

_ Blame it on homework.  _

Her anxiety was through the roof. Maybe she did need Natasha to watch over her? She'd been standing in the corner for nearly 30 minutes. It felt like the party was happening around her rather than her being a part of it. 

She glanced over to where she last saw her friend, Natasha. Yep she's not there, nor is the man in all white. Shit. 

She could feel the anxiety rising in her chest. Her heart felt like it was going to combust, and her head felt light as air. 

Abandoning her previous thought, she found her way to the front door and left the house. She almost made it to the driveway when a voice from behind her revealed itself. 

“Oh, gone so soon? I don't like parties either. Why I'm out here.”

Marya immediately turned around to see a small woman sitting on the front porch fence post, dangling her legs from the metal. 

Marya inched closer and closer to the girl. 

“But it's your own gala.. Shouldn't you be inside?” 

“It's not my gala. It's my father’s. We have one every time we switch homes. They’re becoming so redundant now, I've begun to hate them.” 

Her voice is monotone. The only emotion present being boredom. 

She took a sip of whatever was in her cup. Presumably the spiked punch. 

“Everything about tonight is a reminder of the past, and I hate how much that bothers me…” she sighed, looking into her cup. 

Marya is frozen on the edge of the lawn. She and Helene are the only ones outside, but it doesn't seem like Helene is talking to Marya. More like she's talking to herself, allowing herself to get her thoughts out. Marya just so happened to be a witness.

“I hate how Anatole doesn't have a care in the world about how many times we've moved in the past two years. Every time we move he just finds a way to fit in, and make friends. And when it's time to move again, he just does it all over again.” 

She stared up at the sky. 

“For me, it's not that easy... I'm not that easy…”

Marya hopped up on the fence and sat beside her. 

Helene turned to face her. 

“My father he - he hosts these galas to make it seem like we're all okay. He stamps his wealth onto the neighborhood, so it must seem like we're golden right?” she scoffed. Her breath smelled a tinge of alcohol. 

“Were not.” She took another swig.

“After mom died… things haven't felt the same. I did a lot of things I regret. I started drinking,..”

She flashed a fake smile to Marya while raising her cup to the sky. Her smile faded fast as she continued to talk. 

“I made friends with some of the wrong people…” 

Marya did not know what compelled Helene to dump this all on her, but she could tell that it needed to happen, for the sake of Helene’s own mind. She hasn't even known Helene for two whole days, yet she is trusting her with this very personal information. The least Marya could do for Helene, is listen to what she has to say. 

“I slept with a lot of people I shouldn't have… Andrey Bolkonsky is the first on that list.” 

Recognizing the last name, Marya perked up. 

“Bolkonsky? Does he have a sister named Mary Bolkonsky?”

Her mind went to Sonya, who was currently at Mary’s house, keeping her company while she had to take care of her sickly father. 

“I guess… I don't really know Andrey that well. It was just a one time thing. Something I wish never even happened.”

She hopped down from the fence onto the concrete of the porch. 

“And he has the nerve to show up to my father's gala and call me a slut! Can you believe it?” 

She began to take a sip of her beverage again. 

Marya’s eyes widened at what Helene just said.

“He called you that?..What an asshole.” 

“Yep. He left with some girl. I hope she finds out quick what kind of man he is, so she can leave his ass.”

She stood with her hand on her hip, downing more of what was in her cup. 

Marya could see the hurt in Helene’s eyes. She knew Helene shouldn't be drinking, and she also knew Helene didn't want to be drinking. If she could help her newfound friend in any way, it would be to get out of this party. It was clearly damaging Helene’s mind, and with this Andrey guy showing up, it probably escalated all of her numbness. 

Not thinking of Natasha or Dolokhov in the moment, Marya asked Helene a question.

“Helene, do you want to get out of here? We can go to my house? Watch a movie? I understand if you have to stay, but for the sake of your mind, we can leave if you'd like.”

All the nervousness Marya had felt before melted away. Helene needed help, and she was glad to have offered it to her. And if need be, she would do it again, and again and again. 

Helene looked at the girl on the fence post. How much a contradiction she looked right now. A beautiful woman in a beautiful dress, sitting on a fence post in the most unladylike of ways. That's what she liked about her. Every person Helene had ever met was all the same; Big house, big wallet, pretty face, worse personality. Almost everyone, except her brother fit that description. (Anatole was tolerable, not too much of a bad personality.) Every guy Helene had ever slept with was either horrible to her or ignored her after a week. Every time she would try to make a friend, the rumors would circulate back to them, tainting Helene's chances of friendship. Needless to say, all Helene wanted was a friend. And it looked like she had found her friend in Marya Arkhrosimova. 

“No alcohol?”

A smirk arose on her face. 

“No alcohol.” Marya repeated as a statement rather than a question. 

“Perfect.”

She stepped down from the porch and poured what was left in her red solo cup into the green grass on the lawn. 

“Lets go!” She threw the empty cup on the ground. 

Marya hopped off the fence post and took Helene by the arm, so she wouldn't stumble when she walked. 

Together the two walked to the neighboring house, with the sounds of the crickets chirping in the air as the only sound they could hear. 

Once they got inside the house, Marya immediately went into the kitchen to fetch Helene a glass of water, Lord knows she needed it. 

Helene plopped down on the sofa, and curled herself into the blanket that was hanging on the couches back. 

“Okay I've seen Natasha get drunk too many times to know that the morning after is always the worst. So tomorrow, you should drink this glass - “ 

Marya stepped into the living room to see Helene sound asleep on her couch, snoring quietly into her blanket. 

She set the glass down on the coffee table beside the sleeping girl. She must've had a few drinks before her and Marya’s porch side conversation. 

Remembering she left Natasha and Dolokhov at the gala, she pulled out her phone to text them. 

**Marya:** Sorry I left, had to help Helene. I'm in my house with her. Probably gonna stay here the rest of the night. Are you two okay?

  
  


After Marya removed Helene’s shoes from off her feet, she sat down in the blue living room chair, across from her. She decided it would be best if she stayed with Helene in the living room tonight, just in case she woke up unexpectedly from her slumber. 

Marya kicked off her own shoes, and curled into the chair as best she could. She was just about to close her eyes, when she felt a buzz from her phone. Thinking it was either Natasha or Dolokhov responding to the message she just sent, she checked it without much consideration. 

**Unknown:** Marya, where are you? My brother just brought a very drunk Natasha into the house. I don't really trust Andrey with Natasha, so please as soon as you can, come to my house. Sonya left about 30 minutes ago, and you're the closest to my house. 

  
  


Marya didn't even think twice before grabbing her keys. 

Slipping on her flats, her mind was racing with angry and concerning thoughts of her dangered friend. 

_ I told her not to drink too much, why can't you listen Natasha?! _

_ Oh I hope she's alright by the time I get there… _

_ God, please let her be okay.  _

Before opening the door, she gave one last glance to the girl on her couch.

“I'll be back Helene.”

She swung open the door, and ran to her old Ford Focus. Before starting the car, she pulled out her phone and frantically texted back. 

**Marya:** I'm on my way

She put the car into drive, and sped down the street towards Mary Bolkonsky’s home. 

The thirteen minutes she spent in the car, felt like the longest thirteen minutes Marya had ever experienced. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i suck at dialogue jesus  
> thanks for reading!  
> ~ Jordi


	4. The Gala: Helene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Helene's perspective of the Gala. Next chapter will be Pierre's.

“Helene, did you order the charcuterie board like I asked?” Vassily, Helene’s father asked her. 

The buffet table that was sitting in the middle of the foyer was nearly bare. Besides the napkins, plates, and silverware Anatole had placed down, there was nothing to display. 

“I would have to pick it up from the butcher shop. Could Anatole drive me there?” 

Helene turned her head towards her brother, who was rearranging the pillows on the sofa. At the mention of his name, Anatole spun his head around. 

“Could Anatole drive you where?” He set down the pillow and walked over to the buffet table, where Helene and Vassily were standing. 

“The butcher shop. I have to pick up the charcuterie board.” Helene gestured over to the bare buffet table. 

Vassily tossed him his keys. “Be quick. The Gala starts at Eight, and how rude would it look if you two were late to your own gala?” 

He shifted his eyes between Anatole and Helene before walking off to the musicians, who were setting up their equipment. 

“You mean your gala…” Helene said, under her breath. 

“It'll be fun, Helene. Cheer up!” He wrapped an arm around his sister. 

“Think about it, you get to dress up in a gown and socialize with the other rich families that only came to flaunt their wealth in our faces and fake sympathize with us on our late mothers passing.” 

Helene looked up at Anatole. 

“She wouldn't have wanted this...The glitz and the glamour. Even though she had all this money, she never chose to spend any of it, only when we all went to Moscow. And even then, she could've used her money to heal herself of cancer, but she chose not to…”

Helene shook her head in disappointment at her father. 

Anatole heaved a heavy sigh. 

“How about we go get that charcuterie board, huh?” Removing his arm from Helene’s shoulder, he walked over to the front door. 

Helene followed behind him and they both walked out of the house and to the car. 

“Do you ever think about that? How mom’s side of the family was so wealthy but she was the only one who didn't let it go to her head?”

Helene opened the passenger door of the car, and hopped in. 

“No Helene, I don't think about that.” He slid the key into ignition. 

“Because you choose to forget.” Helene muttered into the window of the car. 

“I don't.” He said sharply, and turned his head towards the girl. 

Helene, a little frightened by the tone of his voice, looked at Anatole as he looked back at her. 

“I'm grieving too, Helene...just not in the way you are.” He said in a quieter tone this time. 

Anatole put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. 

After 40 minutes of silence, they arrived at the butcher shop. The silence gradually became more and more awkward as Anatole got lost about three times on the way there. He knew when they returned back home, Vassily would verbally assault him for taking so long to come back. 

He put the car in park. 

“I'll be back.” Helene said, breaking the silence. 

She opened the car door, and slid out onto the sidewalk of the street. 

She walked into the shop, and made her way towards the front counter, being as though no one was in line, and she was the only customer in the store. 

“Hi, I placed an order for Kuragina. A charcuterie board.” She dug in her wallet for the fifty dollar bill her father gave her this morning. 

“Sorry but, we just sold the last charcuterie board a few minutes ago.” The man in the white apron in front of her said. 

“You what?” Helene paused for a moment to process what he was saying. 

“I’m really sorry miss. Can I offer you something else instead? A roast? A brisket?” He pointed to the various meats in the glass display case to his right. 

“You can’t make another one?” Helene was sweating. The trip to the meat shop already took long enough. What will her Father say when she doesn’t come home with the charcuterie board? Insult to injury is what this situation was. 

“I can’t…” He looked into the case once more. 

“...But I do have some leftover salami, and some left over pepper jack cheese. I can sell you those for half the price of the charcuterie board. It's not perfect, but at least you will have something.” 

He began to take out the salami out of the case, and place the hunk of it onto the wooden table. 

Like the man said, she might as well go home with something...much to her benefit if it meant Vassily wouldn't be too strict with them. 

“I'll take it.”

====

“Where’s the charcuterie board?”

Vassily stood in front of Helene, peering into the bag she just gave him. 

“They ran out. This was the best I could get. If we just arrange the meat and cheese in a way where - “ She tried to explain herself until her father interrupted her. 

“You waited until the last minute to get it, Helene. I don’t want to hear excuses…” He set the two trays of delectables on the buffet table. 

Helene sighed, and walked to go upstairs. 

“And what took you two so long?” Vassily glanced at the watch on his wrist. 

“Anatole’s fault!” She scurried upstairs, not wanting to be a part of that conversation. 

“Anatole, come down here now!” 

Anatole, who was already upstairs, quietly crept back down the stairs, meeting Helene on the top step. 

“Thanks, gracious sister…” He scowled at her. 

“Love you too Tole.” She patted him on the back as he came downstairs. 

Helene could hear the scolding from her room. Vassily’s voice boomed whereas Anatole’s was more sharp and ridgid with every word he said. It seemed like as the days went on, the angrier and angrier their father would get over the littlest of things. Helene chose to focus more on the good memories she had with her father, rather than the outbursts and the insults and the arguing. 

Opening her closet, she found her black, cold shoulder dress. It featured hints of green and gold along the chest area and midsection. One of her favorite dresses. 

“Maybe if I put this on, I'll feel better about this whole gala thing.”

It was at that moment when a certain someone popped into Helene’s head.

_ At least Marya will be there... _

She thought to herself as she pulled the dress of the hanger and set it on her bed. 

Suddenly her mind went elsewhere, as she caught a whiff of a pungent smell. 

“Ugh, I’ve got to take a shower. I smell like beef.” 

The first time she said that, it was meant to be unironic. 

By the fourth time, she just could not contain her laughter any longer. 

====

In the total amount of time it took Helene to shower, get dressed, and apply her make-up, the gala had been going on for forty five minutes... What can she say? It takes time to look good!

She could hear the music, the silverware clanking with the plates, and the soft murmur of people talking. She mentally prepared herself for all of the older rich ladies she was about to hug, and their disgustingly overpowering perfume. Her Father has hosted too many of these things, for her to know that the older rich ladies were the absolute worst. 

She was just about to step down the stairs when she saw a face at the bottom of the stairway. A face she couldn’t have prepared for. Andrey Bolkonsky. 

Helene could feel the boiling anger rising to her head. However, this was certainly not the appropriate setting to display such emotion. She plastered a smile on her face, and stepped down the stairs. A few of the older rich ladies gave her a smile as she made her entrance. She also caught a glare from Vassily, but that was the least of her worries at the moment. 

Helene cautiously watched as Andrey was talking to a beautiful young girl... _ of course.... _

She watched as he flashed his charm at her, which wasn’t really charm at all - it was a trick; Helene could see right through him. She knew what he was really like. 

Catching a glimpse of Helene from behind Natasha, Andrey said a few words to her before sneaking away. 

Helene made her way to the spiked punch bowl and grabbed a cup. 

Not so much to her surprise, Andrey Bolkonsky appeared next to her, grabbing a cup of his own. 

“Elena Kuragina, never thought I’d see you again.” He began to pour. 

“You're the one at my Fathers gala. Can't say I entirely believe that statement.” 

Helene whipped back. 

“Still sharp as a needle, huh?” 

Andrey smirked.

“Why are you here Andrey? I thought I made myself very clear when I said  _ ‘things are over between us’.”  _

Helene poured herself a large cup of the punch. 

“I missed you. I can’t miss you?” 

He grabbed another cup and began to pour. 

“What is there to miss? It was just one time. And it meant nothing to me.”

Her words bit with every syllable spoken. 

“You know that’s not true.” 

He turned his head towards her, and looked her in the eyes. 

She scoffed in amazement.    
“My God, you’re still such a dick...Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

Not wanting to draw attention to the encounter they were having, she lowered her voice to a whisper. 

Andrey whispered along as well, leaning in closer to Helene. 

“Because I know you. You’re still the same girl who will sleep with any guy she meets.”

Helene looked him dead in the eye. She wanted to kick him. She wanted to go off on him, make him wish he never even showed up tonight, but instead all she could do was stare while every word he said stung her. 

“What’s your body count now, Helene? Or have you lost track?”

He popped a salami slice into his mouth. 

“Get out of my house Andrey.” 

Helene was paralyzed. Disarmed. Andrey triggered something in Helene, and he knew it. He knew he’d won. He smiled at the girl in front of him. 

“Gladly, ma cherie…” He took both cups, and headed back towards Natasha, but before he left Helene’s air, he whispered one last thing into her ear. 

“Sorry about your mom.”

He walked off. 

Helene could tell that his so-called  _ ‘apology’  _ was actually just a way to fuel her anger even more, and it must’ve worked because just then Helene gulped down the punch. She didn’t even mind when the burning at the back of her throat came about. She poured herself another as she watched Andrey and the girl exit her home. 

After about five or so minutes, she decided she was in no shape to be greeting people at the gala. Her body was flowing with alcohol, and her mind was swarmed with bits of anger and sadness. 

_ Did he really just call her a slut? Was that truly who she was? A slut?...  _

Back and forth between believing Andrey and disbelieving him, Helene’s mind was at a tug of war. She didn't want to believe him, but she can’t change the past. What’s done is done, and the damage has been made. But if she could, she would take it all back in a heartbeat. 

She went outside to her front porch. There she could be all alone, away from everyone else who might see her as just  _ “the girl whose mother just died”. _

Outside she could look at the stars in the nighttime sky. Feel at peace. It was what she used to do when she was younger after a really bad nightmare. And again when her anxiety wouldn’t let her sleep. And again every day in Moscow, without her mother. 

She liked to believe her mother was watching her from the sky, and that she was right there with her in every one of those moments. 

Some time had passed on when Helene suddenly heard the door fly open and close within a matter of a second. The girl marched right past Helene, making her way towards the driveway. 

Helene immediately recognized who the girl was. Perking up at her sight, she made her presence known. 

“Oh, gone so soon? I don't like parties either. Why I'm out here.” 

Marya spun her head around to face Helene. 

_ ‘Beautiful…’ _

_ ===== _

Helene entered the home of Marya Arkhrosimova. Even Helene knew she had reached her own limit, when she plopped down on the sofa in the front room. She heard Marya say a few words, but everything just began to feel so heavy on her. Her eyes began to close, as she clutched a blue blanket from off the back of the couch, pulling it over her body. 

Before she knew it, she had fallen into a slumber on Marya’s living room sofa, and for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter turned out to be a little shorter than usual. whoops.  
> as always thank you for reading!  
> ~ Jordi 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as @fluffyjor2  
> I dont really post that much TGC stuff, I kinda just reblog whatever.   
> You can shoot me a message or ask if you like :)


	5. The Gala: Pierre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, the story will return back to Marya's POV

Cleaning a smudge off his glasses with the hem of his tuxedo jacket, Pierre just wished for this night to be over. His parents dragged him to the Kuragina Gala’s every time the family held one. Pierre did not like it the first time nor does he like it now. Everything about these gala’s were just so snobbish and pretentious. Pierre was bewildered at how his parents could ever take part in something so artificial. 

Not only did he dread the gala’s for their over abundant displays of wealth, but he despised them for their over abundant displays of wine...and how badly Pierre just wanted a small sip of the expensive wine. With his parents keeping a close eye on him, he could never be allowed to accept a glass of the red alcohol. Nearly almost every teenager in attendance of this gala had a beverage in hand, and he envied them for having such. 

He sighed as a tray of white and red glasses went by him.

“Pierre, so I hear that you will be graduating with honors this year? What year are you in now? Twelfth?” 

An older woman with red lipstick smudged onto her teeth asked the boy. The woman he recognized from last year’s gala, who asked him the same exact question as she did just now. 

“Um -” He stuttered.   
“Yes miss, I work hard in my studies. And yes, this is my final year before college.”

He faked a smile. 

As did his mother.

“Pierre is the highest in his class ya’know? Number one out of two hundred three.” 

His mother rubbed his back, with a smile on her face. 

The woman made a face which expressed amazement. 

“He’s a smart boy. My son.” 

His father took a sip of his white wine. 

“Where do you plan on attending college?” 

The woman smiled wide at Pierre, who had now dropped the smile for a more toned down look. 

“I had my sights for Harvard, but I’m willing to settle for Stanford if Mother will let me stay in California.” 

He turned his head to his mother, with a grin. 

“We’ll see.”

She sipped her glass before changing the subject.

“So Martha, how are the kids?” 

She asked the woman in front of her.

As the two ladies talked, Pierre retreated back into his thoughts. He felt terrible for lying to that woman.  _ Harvard? Stanford?  _ Who was he kidding? He couldn’t get into those schools, even if he tried. Pierre was smart, but not  _ Ivy League smart.  _ He could probably make way with getting into New York University or Villanova University but never Harvard or Stanford or Yale, or any other Ivy League school. This was the lie his family curated so that his parents could parade Pierre around like he was their trophy, and Pierre followed suit. He wouldn't dare try to stand up to them. 

As much as Pierre was smart, he was also a coward. And he hated himself for it. Nothing made him more angry than allowing his parents to lie and brag to uphold their reputation. The only thing keeping him going is the thought: ‘ _ College is only one year away. Go far, and start a new life.’ _

The two women were still chatting when a beautiful sight caught Pierre’s eye. A girl, standing in the front doorway of the home was talking to Anatole Kuragina, who was standing on the other side of the doorway. She smiled, and it seemed like the world had opened wide for Pierre. His heart leapt as he gazed at the girl from a distance. He recognized her to be none other than Natasha Rostova, the girl he’s had a crush on since sophomore year. 

Their paths would never cross normally, as she was a grade below Pierre, but during switching times in between classes, Pierre would often see her chatting away in the hallway while he walked to Physics. 

He could have never predicted her ever coming to these gala’s, and of course she had to come on the one night Pierre wore his scuffed dress shoes. (He tripped on a stair while walking into Sunday mass, and he could not for the life of him find his good dress shoes.)

He hoped she didn’t notice, that is if she even noticed Pierre in the first place. 

She, and her two other friends entered the home. 

“Pierre, why are your shoes all scuffed?”

Pulling Pierre out of his head, his mother looked dismayed by the sight of the brown scuff on Pierre’s right dress shoe.

“It’s just the one shoe mom.” He lifted his foot slightly to show her, 

“And I tripped on the way up the stairs at mass one Sunday. I couldn't find my other pair of dress shoes, so I had to wear these.” 

“You could’ve asked for my black nail polish and painted over it.”

His mother shook his head at him.

“Sometimes, you have to think son.”

His father piped in. 

Pierre, not knowing what to do, simply fiddled with his fingers and nodded with a shameful look on his face.

Another woman, this time with a purple feather in her hat, came by to talk to the family, and suddenly the shame was put inside.

====

After a few minutes, Pierre noticed Natasha had become slightly more drunk than she had been in the past ten minutes. She was now talking to a man dressed in all white. Pierre could tell she thought he was handsome. Pierre thought he looked hideous. 

_ ‘Who in their right mind would wear a white tuxedo and white pants? Clearly someone who doesn't care about mess.’ _

Pierre thought to himself as he sipped his water that he wished were wine. 

Still watching from a distance, Pierre watched as Natasha giggled after every sentence the disastrous man spoke. It was like Natasha was hooked on his spell. And Pierre knew, the boy knew it too. 

A bad feeling arose in Pierre’s chest. 

Un-focusing his attention for a moment, he saw that another person was watching Natasha. A girl with deep red hair and a black dress also studied the young Natasha and mystery man.

‘ _ Its her friend. They came in together.” _ He remembered. 

Like Marya could somehow read Pierre’s thoughts, Marya turned and walked off to a far corner of the room, disassociating herself from everyone around her. And Pierre thought he was introverted…

He silently watched as Natasha accepted more and more drinks from the server. Pierre wanted to shout. 

_ ‘Why isn’t anyone stopping her?! Why isn't that man stopping her?! He’s planning something... He wants to get her drunk.’  _

He swallowed the growl forming in his throat. 

Natasha was a small girl, and for her to be consuming that much alcohol couldn't serve her any good. Pierre wondered if it was lack of self control that was making her down these glasses like it was water. Surely, it had to have been because the level of irresponsibility Natasha was riding on would definitely land her in the hospital if she didn't stop right there. 

At that moment, Pierre saw the boy smile at Natasha, before walking away to the punch bowl area. Natasha, now alone, stumbled to the nearest chair she could find, and sat down. The girl at the punch bowl, he recognized as Helene Kuragina. 

They once were friends but Helene moved so much, they eventually lost touch with each other. A regret he holds close to his heart. Much like Pierre, she was a smart girl. They would often study together as they grew older. 

Helene and the man were having quite the snappy conversation. Helene grew visibly more and more upset, as much as she tried to hide it. 

_ ‘Who is this guy?’  _

He was clearly unwanted at this gala. That fact alone made him worried for both Natasha and Helene. By the look of their conversation, he and Helene have a past. Something must’ve happened to make her this upset. 

Pierre peered his eyes to see the man pour yet another cup of the spiked punch. 

_ ‘One for him, and the other for Natasha.’ _ He presumed.

Natasha bobbed her head along to the violin and piano as she took yet another drink from the server. He had to alert someone about this…

He glanced over to where Marya was standing. She had a phone in one hand, busy swiping away, burying herself in the device. 

He was just about to step towards her when his mother had put a hand on his back. He turned his face to her, then to a man with a big smile on his face.

Vassily Kuragina. 

“Pierre Bezukhov, all grown up! How are you?”

The man asked, clutching a scotch on the rocks.

“I’m well, Mr. Kuragina.” 

He half smiled, peering over the man's shoulder just a bit so he could see Natasha. 

“I remember back when you, Anatole, and Helene were just kids, running around the old house. Then one of you’d get hungry, and then suddenly you’d all get hungry. Thalia would fix you all snacks…”

He lingered on the memory. 

“We’re sorry to hear about Thalia, Vassily. Truly we are sorry.”

Pierre’s father said, with a bit of a remorseful tone. 

“Thank you, your condolences are much appreciated.”

Vassily gave him a warm smile. 

Pierre glanced as the boy in white walked over to Natasha, handing her a cup of the spiked punch. Natasha gladly accepted, just finishing her last drink. 

_ ‘This isn’t good…’ _

“So Vassily, this house is truly amazing.” 

His mother changed the subject yet again. 

“Oh thank you. We're still getting used to it. Would you like a tour?” 

Vassily asked the family, to which Pierre’s mother replied:

“Oh yes please!”

Pierre found himself being moved away from the living room and entering the kitchen, making a drunk and in-danger Natasha Rostova out of his field of sight. 

====

Twenty minutes went by of the family being toured around the first floor of the large house. The anxiety Pierre felt was immeasurable. His mind raced around with thoughts of Natasha, Helene, and that bad bad man. 

_ ‘Who knows how many drinks Natasha has consumed by now...' _

_ ‘God, I hope she’s okay…’ _

_ ‘Helene must know something about that man.’ _

_ ‘I can’t ask her though, that would be awkward.’ _

His own doubts clouded his senses.

They began to walk up the stairs, to the second floor. The marble topped banister was cold to the touch. 

Walking past many rooms in the hallway, Pierre noticed one door was slightly ajar. He could hear voices coming from inside of it. One of the voices he could make out was Anatole Kuragina. The other voice was deeper than Anatole's, he did not recognize it. 

_ ‘Anatole! I can tell Anatole.’ _

As Vassily was showing off the features of his house, Pierre found the opportunity to make his grand escape. 

“Excuse me Mr. Kuragina, would you happen to know where Anatole is? I haven’t seen him all night.”

Pierre asked. 

Vassily smiled at the young boy for a moment. 

“Old pals back at it again huh? I’m sure you can find him in his room. He’s with his friend Fedya right now.”

Vassily pointed the way to Anatole’s bedroom. 

Pierre smiled at him with a nod and a “Thank you.”, before leaving his family to knock on the door of Anatole’s room. 

A few moments later, Anatole popped his head through. 

“Pierre?...”

He looked slightly confused.

“Um, hey...How ya doing?” Anatole asked.

“There is a girl downstairs, and she is in trouble.” Pierre blurted out, getting some of his anxieties off his chest.

“Woah, what? Who?” 

Anatole opened the door, letting Pierre walk into the room. 

Pierre then began to pace around in circles. 

Dolokhov rose from his seat.

“Are you okay dude?”

Dolokhov walked towards him, and offered him his seat so he could sit down. Pierre obliged and took the seat where Dolokhov was previously sitting. 

“Do you know Natasha Rostova? Junior? Beautiful girl?”

Part of him wishes he didn't say that last part. 

“Natasha?!” 

Dolokhov said, quite shocked. 

“What happened? Where is she?”

He sat down next to Pierre. 

“She’s been drinking far too much...and she’s with this guy...I don’t trust it.”

His eyes darted from Dolokhov to Anatole. 

“What guy? What does he look like?” 

Anatole chimed in. 

“I don’t know his name, but it seems your sister knows him. They were having a snappy conversation by the punch bowl.”

Pierre took a sip of his water. 

Anatole took in the information, and exited out of the room. 

Dolokhov quickly followed behind him, and so did Pierre, not wanting to be left out of the loop.

Anatole looked around the room. 

“No sign of Natasha.” He said in a low voice to the other boys. 

“No sign of Helene either.” 

Dolokhov said, staring out into the sea of people. 

“I'm gonna text Natasha, and ask her where she is.”

Dolokhov pulled out his phone.

“The guy had on all white. A white tux and white pants...Which if you ask me, is terrible taste fashion wise.”

Pierre scoffed, taking a long sip of his almost empty water glass. 

Dolokhov and Anatole were staring at the phone screen in Dolokhov’s hand.

“What is it?” 

Pierre looked over Dolokhov’s shoulder to read the text messages.

**Marya:** Sorry I left, had to help Helene. I'm in my house with her. Probably gonna stay here the rest of the night. Are you two okay?

_ Sent four minutes ago _

  
  


**Sonya:** Dolokhov! Can you please find Natasha?! Mary’s brother, Andrey took her and they're at Mary’s house now. Mary just texted me, and told me to pass on the message. I'm too far away right now to drive back. Can you drive to Mary’s?

_ Sent two minutes ago _

“Natasha’s at Mary’s. Helene is at Marya’s.”

Dolokhov said to Anatole and Pierre, sliding his phone in his pocket. 

“My car is parked over at Marya’s house.”

Dolokhov took out his keys from his other pocket. 

“Where’s Marya’s house?”

Pierre asked Dolokhov. 

“Next door. Her and Anatole are neighbors.”

He explained to the boy. 

“C’mon we don't have time to waste!”

Anatole said as he dashed down the stairs.

They all raced down, receiving some bad looks from the older attendee’s of the gala.

Pierre closed the door behind them, and ran across the yard to get into Dolokhov’s car. 

Once they all were in the car, and the doors were closed Dolokhov put the key into the ignition slot. 

“Let's go save Natasha.”

The boy put the vehicle in drive, and darted down the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments really do make me smile, I love them. <3  
> Thank you sooo much for all the kudos.
> 
> I don't know when I'm gonna write the next chapter cause graduation is coming next week, so I'm gonna be really busy until then. I'll try my best tho. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> ~ Jordi


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry this chapter took so long to put out. Graduation was Tuesday, so I was busy all this past week. Also, I kinda lost my mojo for writing due to me being away so long, so sorry if this chapter is kinda sucky.

Pulling up the older stone and brick home, Marya parked haphazardly in the large driveway. She hurriedly opened the door of her car, and stepped out. Nearly running to the porch, she almost tripped on the assortment of potted plants in the small garden. She knocked on the door, and as quickly as she knocked it flew open. 

“Mary! Where is she? Is she okay?” Marya peered over the small girl's shoulder, hoping she would see Natasha. 

“She’s in the basement with my brother…” She moved out of the way to let Marya in.

“I’ve been checking up on her when Andrey would come upstairs. I don’t think he’s hurt her, she looked fine. Terribly drunk and sleepy.” 

Mary directed her to the basement door, Marya opened it and hopped down the stairs.

“Natasha!” She ran over to her side. Mary stayed in the entrance way of the room. 

“Are you a friend of hers?” A gravelly voice from the other side of the room said. Marya assumed it was Andrey. 

“Yes, I'm here to take her home.” Marya turned her head to Andrey who was sipping on a beer. Marya looked back at Natasha. Only she would get herself in a situation like this… 

“Oh, I don't know about that…” Andrey placed the beer on the coffee table, and stood up, walking towards Marya and an asleep Natasha. 

“Excuse me?” Marya faced the muscular man, who was now dressed in sweats. 

“Andrey, don’t be like this. Just let her go home.” Mary piped up. She looked visibly upset. 

If this was how her brother acted drunk, Marya hated to see or hear the kind of things he said to Mary, his own sister...

Just then, the doorbell rang. Mary was hesitant to leave the room but Marya gave her a look, letting her know it was okay. She nodded in response, and made her way up the stairs. 

“You're friends with Helene aren't you?” Andrey eyed Marya. 

Taken aback by the question, Marya hesitated on her response.

“Wh-What does that have to do with anything?! I’m here for Natasha!” 

Marya gestured towards the girl on the sprawled out on the couch. 

Many footsteps came rushing down the stairs leading towards the basement. 

Fedya ran into the room, and crouched by Natasha’s side. Anatole, Pierre, and Mary all stood by Marya. 

“Oh you brought friends?” Andrey smirked. 

“I - actually… yes I did.” Marya sputtered out. 

Andrey turned his head from Marya and now faced Anatole. 

“Saw your sister tonight… she wasn't too happy to see me.”    
Anatole’s chest rose up and down the more he looked at Andrey.

“You’re an asshole Andrey.” 

He said, through gritted teeth. 

Glancing over at Fedya, Andrey began to walk over to him 

“Is this your boyfrie -”

Before Andrey could even finish the sentence, Anatole jumped in front of Fedya. 

“Don't hurt him.”

His voice was low and threatening. 

Marya started to lightly shake Natasha, in hopes she would wake up. She wanted to get out of here, but more importantly, get Natasha out of here. 

“Or what?” Andrey pushed Anatole, making him falter back a bit. 

Suddenly, Anatole slung his fist to Andrey’s face. The noise of his fist connecting with Andrey’s cheek sounded like a gun firing. 

In the midst of everything, Pierre draped Natasha over his shoulder. 

“Lets go guys!” He carried her to the stairs, Fedya and Marya following after him. 

Wiping the blood off his lip, Andrey simply walked back to the coffee table and picked up his beer. 

“You’ll regret that Anatole.” He took a long sip from his can. 

Anatole, still breathing heavily, marched out of the room with his eyes fixed on Andrey. 

Mary suddenly burst into tears from the anxiety of what just occurred. 

“Sorry for all the trouble…” is all he said to the quiet girl, as he walked up the stairs, following the group out of the house. 

====

As Marya walked back into her quiet house, she noticed the kitchen light was turned on, which it hadn't been previously before she left. Then she noticed a very sleepy and semi awake, Helene Kuragina sitting upright on the sofa. 

“Welcome back…” She mumbled glancing at Marya through tired eyes. 

“Sorry I had to leave. Natasha needed me.” Marya threw her coat down on the chair across from Helene. 

“Who’s Natasha?” Helene rubbed her eyes and layed back down on the couch, nuzzling into her blanket. 

“A friend of mine. She...got into some trouble, and I needed to save her.” 

Marya decided it was best to leave out the details of Andrey and the ball, considering those two things happened to be a sensitive subject for Helene, and she was terribly tired at the moment. She didn't want Helene to worry about this, not after all she had dealt with tonight. 

“Mmmm.” Helene scooted over on the couch, making more space. 

“Come lay with me?” Her eyes half open, and her speech slurred. 

After a moment's consideration, Marya sat down by Helene’s feet. She looked over at the girl who seemed to be basking in the warmth of the blanket. 

“Why is your house so empty?” Helene peered over the top of the blanket almost covering her eyes.

“It's not that empty. I have furniture, desks, and other knick knacks. Your house is the empty one! Boxes upon boxes upon other miscellaneous items.”

Marya gestured to the items around her kitchen and living room. 

“No. That's not what I mean…” Helene sat upright again to face Marya. 

“Where are your parents? Does no one else live here?” 

Marya's eyes went down to the carpet.

“My mom is away on a business trip in Paris. She calls me sometimes, texts me here and there, but that's about it. She blames time zones, but even when she was home ...she was always so busy…” 

Marya looked back up at Helene who looked intently back at her. 

“Don’t you ever get lonely?” 

Helene put a hand on Marya’s arm. 

“I guess so...but it’s always been like this. It's nothing new.” Marya nervously looked back between Helene and her arm. 

“Well you got me now…” Helene flashed a small smile before laying back down on the warm sofa and snoozing off to sleep. 

Marya smiled back and layed down right next to Helene and she didn't stop smiling until she awoke in the morning.

====

Marya awoke to the sounds of sizzling bacon and birds chirping outside her window. The smell of breakfast wafted into the living room. She was so enraptured by the smell, she didn't even notice the empty space next to her.

She turned her head towards the stove to see Helene, frying up some bacon and whisking eggs. 

“Oh you're awake! I'm just getting breakfast together.” She said, pouring the eggs into the other pan. 

“How...how are you so awake right now? Shouldn't you be hung over from last night?” Marya wiped her eyes, and sat up. Her messy hair all over the place. She tried to fluff it out with her hands, which only made it worse.

“Oh, I am hung over, but if I go back home and Vassily sees me like that, it won’t be a good morning for me.” 

She fetched a spatula from the drying rack and swished around the eggs. 

Marya glanced over at the coffee table where the glass of water and a small tablet were still sitting. 

“You didn't take the medicine to help with your hangover?” 

She got up from the sofa to check her phone. 

“I don’t need it. But thank you though.” Helene said from the kitchen. 

Marya read the many notifications that were displayed on her screen. 

**Fedya:** Marya, just texting you to make sure you made it home safely? Pierre drove Natasha to her and Sonya’s house so she’s alright. 

_ Sent twenty two minutes ago _

**Unknown:** Hi Marya. I just wanted to apologize for last night...Even though Natasha was safe and all that, I just wanted to apologize for being a burden on your night. I apologize on behalf of my brother as well. Could you please send me the blonde boy’s number? I want to apologize to him too. 

_ Sent an hour ago _

**Unknown:** Marya? Fedya gave me your number. Is Helene with you? She wasn’t at our house when we all left, and she's not back yet.. She hasn't texted me and I'm starting to get worried...this is Anatole btw

_ Sent two hours ago _

**Sonya:** Thank you <3 Pierre Bezukhov just dropped Natasha off. I'm letting her sleep now. She's most likely gonna receive an earful from our aunt in the morning...

_ Sent six hours ago.  _

“Hey Helene? Did you text your brother yet? He’s worried about you.” 

Marya walked over to the kitchen, phone in hand to show Helene the text message.

“Yeah I texted him about five minutes ago. I don't know if he responded back yet. Also, what happened last night? Pierre Bezukhov texted me asking if I was okay, and I haven't spoken to him in like four-ish years…Did something happen while I was sleep?” 

She set the bacon down on a tray and began to carry it over to the table. 

“Uh, yeah… well y'know how you said Andrey Bolkonsky went home with some girl last night?” 

Marya got out two plates and silverware from her cabinet and set them down on the table. 

“I said that? When?” 

“When we were outside. You were very drunk and very sad...so I brought you back to my house. Remember?” 

She took a strip of bacon and placed it down on her plate. Helene brought over the eggs and poured some on Marya’s plate. 

“Kind of… but continue. What happened last night?”

Helene scooped some eggs onto her own plate. 

Marya recounted the previous night's events. She told her everything. Natasha being taken by Andrey, Andrey mentioning Helene, Anatole punching Andrey…

“Anatole punched him?! Serves him right, after what he did to him.”

Helene sipped her water. 

“What did he do?” 

Marya picked up some eggs onto her fork. 

“He outed him before he was ready…It was this big school rumor. Anatole just kept on denying it, but then Fedya helped him accept himself and eventually he came out. We were gonna have a party for him and everything. Balloons, friends, cake, but then…. mom got diagnosed so the party was kind of put on the back burner. He doesn't like to talk about it.”

“Oh.. I guess all that anger just kind of rose up once he saw Andrey.”

“Yeah…” Helene took a small bite of her bacon. 

“But what about Natasha? Is she safe?” 

“Oh yeah, she’s okay now. Pierre took her home.” 

“Speaking of home, I should be getting back soon.”

She glanced at the clock on the wall to read the time. 

“Vassily’s gonna be pissed, but I'll be alright.” 

“Gone so soon?” 

Marya chuckled to herself, remembering the words Helene said to her when she was escaping the ball. 

“Unfortunately… hey maybe when we get the chance we can go to the mall? Not today though, I don’t know if Vassily will ever let me out of the house, or should I say prison...” 

“Well at least finish your breakfast first. I'll take care of the dishes.” Marya smiled at Helene, as she smiled right back at her. 

Suddenly Helene extended her arm and placed a hand on Marya’s free hand. 

“Thank you for taking care of me last night Marya… I really appreciate your kindness, even though I’ve only known you for about three days. You’re a really special person.” 

Marya’s heart began to flutter. She gazed into Helene’s eyes with a small smile on her face. Surely, Helene must like her back to be making all these moves on her?! Right? Or was it just Marya’s heart and mind teasing her? Whatever it was, Marya just hoped she liked her back. 

“You’re welcome Helene. You're always welcome to stay here whenever you like. You don't even have to call, just come on over.” 

They stayed silent looking at each other for a few moments when Helene broke the tension in the air. 

“Uh, well I know you said how I should finish my food but I think I should be going now.”

Helene stood up, taking her plate to the trash can. 

“Oh, okay. Do you want me to walk you?”

_ ‘It's just next door Marya, why would she need you to walk her over there?’ _

“Oh no I'm okay, thank you though.” 

Marya walked over to the front door and opened it for Helene. 

“Anytime Helene. I'll see you at school on Monday?” 

“Yes, If I don’t see you before then.” 

Helene smiled, and with that she walked out the door. 

“Bye!” She waved back at Marya. 

“Bye Helene.” 

Marya watched as Helene walked over to her front door step, and rang the bell. 

The door opened, and she could hear a few murmurs from her father. 

She trudged through the entrance way and with that the door slammed closed.

Marya hoped Helene wasn’t in too much trouble. She knew Helene wouldn't blame her for it though. 

She slumped on the couch where Helene and her slept, and pulled the blanket back over her. 

Before she knew it, she was asleep again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for 100 hits!! I really appreciate it <3  
> As always thank you for reading!
> 
> ~ Jordi


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did I stay up all night writing this chapter? yes

**[Helene POV]**

“And where have you been, young lady?! You’ve been gone all night and you never even bothered to text or call!”

Vassily slammed the door behind his daughter, who was not in the mood for this conversation. Sure, she knew it was bound to come but still, she’d only been awake for less than an hour and was currently fighting a massive hangover. 

“I was at a friend's house. I wasn’t feeling too good at the gala last night so I went home with her.”

Anatole came trudging down the stairs with messy bed hair. Why he decided to come down the stairs at this moment was something unbeknownst to Helene. Vassily was sure to drag him into the argument. 

“Don’t think you're off the hook, Anatole. I know you left too last night.” 

Vassily stood in the middle of the foyer with his arms folded on his chest. 

“A friend needed my help. I had to leave the gala early.” 

Anatole almost made it into the kitchen when Vassily turned to face him. 

“Oh, so punching Andrey Bolkonsky in the face was a part of the plan?” 

Anatole stopped short of the kitchen. 

“I got a phone call from his father early this morning.” 

He leaned against the now empty buffet table.

“Y’know I get it. You two want to act out cause of mom, but you can’t be doing these things!”

Vassily shifted his eyes between his two children. 

“It’s not entirely because of mom…” 

The young girl mumbled under her breath. The sound of her father’s voice roared in her ears. 

Anatole fiddled with his fingers, not bothering to look at his father. 

“Excuse me?” 

Vassily lowered his voice, and took on a more threatening tone. 

“We move houses every year! Each one bigger than the last. What are you trying to compensate for? Do you think big houses with big lawns and fancy furniture will make mom love you?” 

A pause that felt like ages lingered in the air among the three Kuragina’s. 

“Did you?...” A tear trickled down Helene’s cheek. 

“Elena you -”

“Don’t call me that.”

Helene interrupted the man. 

“Helene…” He sighed. 

“Your mother and I didn't have the best marriage, as I’m sure you two both know...but there's a reason for everything this family had to do….The decisions your mother and I had to make. Everything we did was for your best interest. We were trying our best to protect you guys, and without your mother around...that’s becoming more and more of a difficult task.” 

Helene could feel the anger bubbling in her chest and in her head. To say her parents marriage was not the best would be putting it gently. Their marriage was a disaster. Weeks would go by without them speaking a word to each other. You could practically hear the silence in the air when they were in the same room. And when Thalia became sick, the silence became unbearable. 

Vassily would fund her treatments but that was it. He loved her just enough to try keep her body alive, but the romance and the laughter had already been long gone. 

Sometimes Helene would wonder if it was her and Anatole that ruined them, but then she would remind herself that she has a chance to not end up how her mother and father did, and so instead of focusing on the past, Helene opted to think of her future and how bright her future love would be. 

“Protect us? Protect us from what?” 

Anatole looked up at Vassily. His young blue eyes pierced through the older man's brown ones. 

“It's...complicated.” 

The man ran a hand through his graying hair, visibly uncomfortable at the conversation on hand. 

Helene studied his face. The twitch in his lips, the rapid eye movements. She knew there was something more serious behind the curtain of his words. 

“So that's it? That’s all you're gonna say?” She scoffed and began to walk over to the living room before turning on her heels to say one more remark. 

“Are you just gonna keep on hiding things from us dad?! We deserve to know what’s going on!” 

Vassily was about to speak when Anatole cut him off. 

“And don’t just blame it on grief, cause this started way before mom was even diagnosed...Just tell us what's been going on.”

“Again, It’s complicated…. I wish I could tell you, but I just can’t right now….” 

He looked down at the floor.

A simple “I’m sorry.” is all he could muster out. 

_Unbelievable…_

“I'm leaving…” Helene made her way to the front door of the house. Her hand grasped the cold handle of the door. 

“Anatole, I - “

Vassily tried to reach out to his son, but he just shook his head in distrust and left him the foyer, making his way towards the stairs. 

A moment's silence fell before Vassily said one last thing. 

“Your mother hid things too….I’m not the bad guy.”

Helene opened the door and left without a word to say to anyone. 

====

Upon entering her next door neighbors doorstep, she knocked rather loudly - a little too forceful but considering her wreck of emotions right now, it was justified. 

After about ten seconds of knocking, and five seconds of waiting, the door flew open. 

“Helene...what's wrong? Did something hap-”

Marya began.

“You wanna go shopping?” 

Helene blurted out.

“Um….its like 9:30am….I don’t even think the mall is open right now, Helene.”

“We could go to Kohl’s. They open at 10.” Helene slid her way past the redhead girl. 

“Kohl’s is for old people Helene….Are you okay?”

Marya closed the door behind her and turned to face her. 

“I just need to get out of here. I don’t care where we go, I just - I just need to leave.”

Helene said, pushing back tears. 

Marya studied her face, how full of distress she was in. 

“And I’m sorry if I seem dramatic right now… and I'm sorry I left your house just to come back in again crying like a child…. I just- “

Helene started to ramble on to Marya, but thankfully Marya did not need to know what was wrong in order to be a kind help to Helene. 

“It's okay, Helene. When I said _‘you're welcome anytime’_ I meant it.” 

Helene looked into her eyes, and gave her a small smile. 

She was grateful to have a person like Marya in her life. Where has she been all these years? She never had someone whom she could feel this vulnerable in front of. Her mother, maybe but even Thalia Kuragina had faults (and apparently secrets), and one of those faults was lack of empathy. She had seen Thalia cry before and Helene was always there to hold her hand, but when the crying was from Helene, Thalia didn’t know how to comfort her. Helene learned to create comforting moments for herself, to help ease her nerves and calm her down. Usually she would do one of two things: Either look up at the stars and imagine her mother in the sky or drink til she couldn't feel anymore. But both options were off the table at this hour, however she didn't mind spending her morning with Marya Akhrosimova. The girl made her calm and warm… a different calm and warm from alcohol though. This warmth was more vibrant. More real. Like her heart leapt for it, and so did she. 

  
  


“I'm gonna go hop in the shower and get ready before we head out…” 

A small smirk came up on Marya’s face. 

“And I think you should take one too.”

“Are you saying I stink? Because that was a very polite way of saying it, if I might add.” 

She chuckled a bit. 

“Hey, I had to go to sleep with your stanky alcohol breath in my face, so I’m just saying…”

She trailed off as Helene laughed and laughed. 

“There’s clothes in my closet you can borrow. They might be a little big on you, but just as long as you get out of that dress, you should be fine.” 

Helene followed the girl upstairs and into her bedroom. 

She looked around the room with curiosity in her eyes while Marya grabbed some clothes from the wardrobe.

The room was small (or smaller than what Helene was used to) but it looked cozy. Minimalist style. White walls with dark pine hardwood floors. A large wooden desk littered with textbooks and papers leaned against the longer side of the room. Next to it was a small reading nook, with many _many_ (too many) books underneath it. 

“How many of these books have you actually read?” Helene looked over at Marya, who had a handful of clothing draped on her arm. 

“Um, none of them actually. I’ve been so focused on school, I haven't had any time for myself.” 

She closed the wardrobe and handed Helene some of the pile of clothing. The rest, she still had on her arm. 

“I'm just gonna hop in the shower now. You can use my moms shower, it's just down the hall and to - ”

“What is this?”

Having unfolded the shirt, she held it up to examine it. 

“A black polo… Why? What's wrong with it?”

Marya came behind Helene to also look at the shirt, to which she could see nothing wrong with it. 

“It’s just so… sad. Where did you get this?” 

She grimaced at the shirt before her. 

“Kohl’s” Marya deadpanned. 

“Didn’t you say Kohl’s was for old people?”

“Yes, but their sales are ridiculous! Up to 80% off Helene…. You can’t beat that.” 

Helene stared at her for a moment.

“What else is in here?” 

She marched over to the wardrobe and opened the double doors. 

“Polo, polo, polo, flannel, flannel, ugly, boring…”

She skimmed through the clothing, pushing their hangers to the end of the rack. 

“But that’s one of my favorites though…” Marya said softly, behind her. 

“You need to update your look, hun.” She closed the doors and paced the room. 

“Old Navy.”

She blurted out, looking at the redhead girl with a wide smile on her face. 

“Old Navy? I thought they just sold jeans? And please don’t tell me we’re buying jeans too?”

Marya tilted her head at Helene. 

“Oh they sell way more than jeans, and yes we are buying you a pair of jeans because khaki’s aint cuttin’ it.”

She threw down the tan pair of khaki’s Marya gave to her, on the bed. 

Natasha has tried plenty of times to get Marya to go shopping with her, and every time she has tried, Marya refused. Marya felt as though she didn’t need new clothes. She was perfectly fine with the clothes she had. Her mother tried to take her to one of those trendy clothing stores like H&M, but everything there was just so….not Marya to say the least. And frankly, Marya did not even know what her style was, but it sure wasn’t that. 

But since Old Navy isn't anything like H&M, and since she’ll be shopping with a certain someone, she was willing to go. 

“Do these clothes make you feel pretty?” Helene sat down beside Marya, sitting on her bed. 

“What do you mean?” 

Marya tried not to stare into her eyes...again…

“I mean, when you put on these clothes, do you feel good?” 

Helene gestured to the wardrobe in front of them. 

“I don’t feel anything. They’re just clothes to me.”

Marya shrugged.

“Marya, when you wear clothes you should feel confident. Feel good about yourself.” 

She got up and walked to the full length mirror at the side of the room. 

Like a puppy, Marya followed behind her. 

“See how this dress hugs my body, and how my shoulders are exposed?...”

Marya nodded behind her, shifting her eyes between Helene’s body and the floor. 

“I like this dress because it makes me feel sexy.”

Helene turned to Marya. 

“Well, you have the body for it. I could never pull off something like that.” 

Marya smiled at the ground. 

Helene put a hand on the other girl’s shoulder. 

“Every body has the right body for every dress, Marya. Every body is a right body. We just gotta find the clothes you feel good in.”

Breaking her gaze, Helene grabbed the clothes she threw onto the bed. 

“I’m gonna get in that shower now. You said down the hall and where?” 

“Uh - to the right. Down the hall and to the right.” 

Helene smiled back at her.  
“Thanks.”

She began to exit the room, and Marya watched as she did. 

“Oh and there's also some spare toothbrushes and towels in the pantry in there, so…”

Marya said, standing in the entrance way of her room. 

“Alright.”

And with that, Helene walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. 

====

After forty or so minutes later, they both were dressed and ready to leave. 

Helene tucked the unbuttoned polo into her khaki’s of course, and used the black belt of the dress to loop in the belt loops of the pants. It made the outfit look better, but still nowhere near fashionable. 

Marya stepped out in a plain, navy blue tee shirt and black khaki shorts, with opened toed sandals on her feet. 

“So are we taking your car or mine?” 

Marya asked with her hands in her pockets.

“Yours. I can't drive.” 

Helene opened the door, and walked out onto the porch. 

“Oh you never took the test?”

Marya grabbed her keys from the small bowl at the door and exited the home. 

“I failed the test... _twice._ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some Helene POV!  
> also the drama gets deeper...
> 
> thank you for reading! I love all your comments, they make me smile. :)
> 
> ~ Jordi


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest chapter i've written. 12 pages long...

“So wait, tell me again how you failed the test the second time around?”

Marya recalled Helene telling her the story 15 minutes ago when they first stepped into the car, but for her own amusement she just wanted to hear it one more time. She chuckled into her shirt as Helene’s face began to brighten up, amused by the story as well. 

“I swear the light was green when I looked up from the wheel, and then it just switched to red!” The girl threw her hands up, adding life to the story. 

“So I just kinda sped up a little, ya’know.”

“You ran the light.”

Marya deadpanned, walking up to the sliding doors of the Old Navy. They opened with ease, and the two girls walked in. 

“I knew I could make it though.”

Helene grabbed a blue cart from the cart parking, and rolled it in front of her. 

“You could've gotten in a crash Helene, and do we really need a cart?”

Marya tilted her head at the small girl pushing the empty blue and gray cart. 

“Yes we need a cart. And yes, I know from what I’ve told you, it sounds very dangerous, but I can assure you that I made the necessary precautions to not get myself involved in a car accident. I’m not  _ that  _ reckless.”

Marya just shook her head, silently laughing to herself. 

As they approached the jean section, Marya grew more and more bewildered. Why were there so many types?! Seriously, what was the need for all the different varieties? They're all denim, what's the difference?

“Okay what's your size?”

Helene stopped the cart in the middle of the aisle, turning to Marya who was gazing up at all the jeans. 

“U-Uh I don’t really know. All the pants I own are a size large. I wouldn't know how to convert that to the sizing of jeans though.”

She turned to Helene, who was staring down at her long legs, gauging an estimate on Marya’s jeans size. She tilted her head back and forth, standing back to get a good look. 

She circled around the girl, visually measuring her waist size and seeing what type of jean might best fit her. 

Marya stared down at the wooden flooring in nervousness. 

“Well since you're taller, and slightly bigger than me…” She looked at her one last time. 

“I would say you're about a size 12.” 

Helene looked back up at her. 

“Okay, so where are the twelves?” 

Marya surveyed around the aisle, scanning through the numbers as they increased. Suddenly, her eyes caught sight of the size twelve jeans, in the far far section, at the end of the aisle. 

“Oh! They're over here!”

Marya walked over to the jeans, and Helene followed behind her with the cart. 

“Now which one?”

Marya turned her head to the Kuragina, who was sweeping mountains of jeans into the cart.

She must've already gotten 10 pairs in the basket while Marya wasn’t looking. 

“Woah, Helene. I thought we were only just getting one pair? Why so many jeans?” 

Marya glanced between the cart and Helene. 

“We’re gonna try on all of these! We have to find what makes you feel your best. And you don't have to get just one, you can get more than one pair.”

Helene smiled at the girl in front of her. 

“Oh, but aren't we buying more things than just jeans? Like shirts and stuff? I don’t want to put a dent in your wallet.”    
Marya said, bashfully while subtly smiling back at Helene. 

“Marya, it’s not my wallet. It’s my father’s. Trust me, a few couple hundred off his credit card won’t hurt a thing. He won’t even miss it.”

Helene began to pour more jeans into the cart, filling it up fast. 

“Alright...but just a fair warning, if you really do expect me to try on all of these jeans, you’re gonna have a hard time.”

Marya smiled, grabbing a pair off the top and heading into the fitting room. 

A few minutes passed by, and Marya was ready to show Helene the first pair of jeans. To be honest, they weren't that bad. Maybe paired with a belt, and some other type of shoe it would look better. But they did fit her nicely, and she did like how she looked in them. It didn't hug her body, but you could still see the curves of her waist, the denim carefully accentuated as opposed to her khaki’s which made her look boxy and rectangular. 

She stepped out of the change room to show Helene, who was sitting on the bench outside the door. 

“Ah! I love it!!” 

She squealed and smiled upon looking at the girl in the dark wash denim jeans. 

“But my opinion doesn’t matter, how do you feel? You like it?” 

Helene asked her questions as she brimmed with glee over Marya. 

“I like it… It’s not too tight. I feel good. And plus, it goes over my ankles, which I really love cause sometimes my ankles get cold.”

She smirked and grabbed the next pair of jeans from the overflowing cart. 

“When you take those off, give them to me so I can hold them for you.” 

Helene said, to which Marya just nodded back to her and slipped back inside the room. 

This cycle went on for the next nine pairs of jeans, and of course Marya tried them all on, as opposed to what she had said previously. Marya would step out of the fitting room, Helene would ask her how she felt, and then Marya would make her decision. 

Out of the ten pairs of jeans she tried on, four of them made the final cut. 

The first pair she tried on, which was the dark wash jeans. The fourth pair, which were light blue high waisted mom jeans. The sixth pair were low rise jeans that had a long silver chain looped into the belt loop. And lastly, a black version of the first pair of jeans was the eighth. 

“See? Now was that so hard?”

Helene amused Marya. 

“I have a feeling, after today you’re gonna start to learn to appreciate jeans more.” 

Helene pushed the cart over to the shirt section of the store, with Marya behind her shoulder. 

She smirked when the newly found jean shopper scoffed a little too dramatically. 

“Okay Marya…” Helene rolled her eyes at the other girl who was trying to hide the smile on her face.

“...Next time I come over to your house, we are throwing away the khaki’s.”

Now Marya had never been a smooth talker, especially not when it came to crushes. She could never work up the courage to talk to anyone, but with Helene, everything just felt so right and easy. She could have a conversation with her, hours upon end, no telling when either of them would shut up. Flirting, however, was something she had zero experience in, which is why the next few sentences that came out of her mouth were a complete and utter shock to both herself and Helene Kuragina. 

“How about after school on Monday? Call it a date?” 

Almost immediately Marya regretted what she said. 

Helene’s entire body froze up like water droplets in winter, which is why her cheeks becoming a slight shade of pink was a sight to behold. 

“I- I erm, sure. It’s a date.”

Helene said, with her heart thumping in her chest. 

Running all her words together, Marya tripped over her tongue. 

“U-Unless you don’t want it to be, cause it doesn’t have to be a date. It can just be a friend kind of date where you just hang out together, y'know like a little hang out time for just the two of us ...me and you.”

She could feel the sweat forming on her palms. 

“No, no, no, it's a date. Just two friends...on a date…”

Helene reassured her, and now Marya wasn’t the only one with the sweaty hands. 

“Oh good then…”

Marya breathed out, not so subtly wiping her hands on her khaki’s. 

“Yeah…”

Helene nodded in agreement. 

A few moments silence passed by where they just stared at each other in an awkward haze. Heart beating rapidly, and sweat pouring down from their hands. In all of the times, people have made moves on Helene, none of them ever made her falter like this. Made her heart feel like it's leaping right out of her chest. 

_ ‘Wait, Marya just flirted with me… she likes me back? _ ’ Helene thought to herself, still in a state of shock. 

“Um, excuse me can I help you two?”

Suddenly, a new voice brought itself into the scene, snapping Helene and Marya back into reality.

The young woman wore an all blue ensemble, so clearly she worked in the store. Marya spun around to see the woman behind her. Apparently her name was Lelah, as her name tag suggested. 

“Oh, no thank you. We’re okay. Just buying some jeans.” 

Marya pointed to the large pile of differently shaded blue and black denim.

“Okay…” 

Lelah the Old Navy employee, nodded and walked past the both of them, returning to her counter at the front of the store. 

“So…” Helene began.   
“Shirts?”

“Shirts.”

Marya parroted back to her. 

With that, they walked to the shirt aisle silently. 

====

“You didn’t even buy anything for yourself and we spent nearly $400 dollars!”

Marya said, unlocking the door to her house. 

“It was a day for you, not me! You deserve it. And I told you already, my father won’t care about a few missing Benjamin’s, and I’m still kinda mad at him so it's well worth it.”

Helene threw the shopping bags full of clothes down on the couch. 

“He found out you got drunk last night?”

Marya sat down on the chair, while Helene pushed the bags over to make room for herself on the couch. 

“Surprisingly no. He was just mad that I didn't come home last night.”

She leaned back on the sofa, and rested her arms on the back of it. 

“Oh, that's my fault. I’m sorry I got you in trouble. I should've just - “

Marya started to say before being interjected by Helene. 

“No, it’s not your fault. You did the right thing. My dad is just overprotective a lot of the time, and lately he’s just been… off, so his nerves are probably like really high for some reason. But, me getting yelled at is definitely not your fault.”

Marya nodded in understanding in response. 

“Actually, can we talk about that for a bit? My dad?...It’s just… I feel like you're the only person I can talk to nowadays.”

Helene sat up from her seat, and rested her elbows on her lap, fiddling with her thumbs. 

“Yeah, of course Helene. What is it?”

Her eyes drew on a more concerned kind of look. 

“Before I came back here today, my dad and I had this big argument. I asked him why we’re always moving houses and if the reason was so that he could win mom over again. He said he was doing it to protect me and Anatole, but he wouldn’t say from what or why… He’s definitely hiding something.” 

She clenched her fist, growing more and more angrier at the man. 

“And then just when I was about to leave to come over here, he says that my mother had secrets from us too, that we don’t know about so I guess both of my parents are liars now, even in death.”

“Do you have an idea of what he could be hiding?”

Marya inquired. 

“No, that’s the problem. I have no idea what he could be hiding from us. And I deserve to know!”

She glanced up at Marya. 

“Don’t I?”

“You do.”

She reached out her hand and rested it on Helene’s arm, trying to comfort her. Helene gave her a warm smile. 

Helene’s eyes sparkled with a radiance only she could have. Her beauty was mesmerizing, enthralling even. It was just something about those brown eyes that made Marya melt. Infact, it wasn't just her eyes, it was her entire being. Her personality, her charm, her attractiveness… She was all Marya could ever think about at any hour of the day and even into the early hours of the night. 

Even now, she was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice when Helene stopped her longful gaze into Marya’s eyes to take a quick glance at her lips. 

It was in that moment when Marya had a realization. 

“How long has your father been having these gala’s?”

Marya asked her.

Stuttering a bit, Helene responded back.

“U-Uh… We first moved back in 2016, and since then we’ve moved five times, so it's been about four years, and five gala’s.”

“Do you know what charity he’s been donating the money to? Because since your father raises quite a large amount of money from the gala’s, I’m sure the charity would have him listed as a sponsor. We can just check the website of the charity and see if he’s under the sponsor’s list.”

Marya pulled out her phone and swiped to google.

“It’s some private charity in Russia called Anastasia. They make technology and other electronics for the government. That's really all I know about it.”

As Helene was speaking, Marya was busy typing away. 

“Found the website. Problem is: it’s blocked.”

She clicked off her phone and threw it down on the table. 

“Of course it is, it’s the Russian government.” 

Helene scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

“I’m going to do more research on Anastasia Tech. If I find something, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.”

Marya was just about to respond when suddenly, the doorbell rang. 

The two of them both glanced at the door upon hearing the sound. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone else.”

Marya got up from her seat and walked over to the door, peeping in the peep hole to see who it might be. 

A bright smile illuminated her face. She turned the lock on the door, and opened it.

“Natasha! Sonya!”

Extending both of her arms out, she embraced Natasha in a big hug. 

“Aw, I don't get a hug?”

Sonya said, walking into the home. 

“You’ll get your hug after I finish hugging Natasha.”

Marya said, squeezing Natasha even tighter. 

“If Natasha makes it out alive, Jesus Marya!”

Natasha protested the painful hug by trying to squirm her way out of it, in attempts to break free from Marya’s clutches. 

“Sorry Natasha.”

She loosened her grip on the smaller girl. 

“I just haven't seen you since last night. You gave me quite the scare.”

Natasha walked inside the home as well, stopping short after seeing Helene sitting on the couch. 

“Oh hello… I’m Natasha!” She walked over to Helene with her arm extended. 

Marya began to hug her other best friend, Sonya Rostova. 

“Helene. Nice to finally meet you.”

She smiled, shaking her hand. 

“I’m Sonya. Natasha’s cousin.”

She waved to Helene from the doorway, and Helene waved back with a small, “Hello.”

“What’s all the shopping bags for?” Natasha said after looking at the three bags filled with jeans and crop tops. 

“Helene and I went shopping earlier. Bought lots of cool stuff.”

Marya said as the two girls sat down on the ottoman next to her. 

Natasha quickly turned her head to Helene.

“Ah! You got Marya to go shopping?! What did you have to do, bribe her with the answers to Monday’s math homework?”

She said amusedly. 

“No, I think the answers to the test were more than enough as consolation.”

She half joked, back at her. 

“Oh by the way, loved the gala last night! Everything was very nice.”

Natasha smiled as she complimented Helene. 

“Oh thank you, but it was my father’s - not mine. I’m glad to see you're safe though. Andrey Bolkonsky is not the kind of person you’d want to spend your night with.”

Helene placed a hand on Natasha’s arm. 

“Wish you could've told me that last night.” She chuckled. 

“I barely remember what happened, I was so drunk.”

She shook her head in disdain, remembering bits and pieces of the events that transpired the night before. 

“I got caught up with Andrey a few months ago, before I went on vacation to Russia. He’s not a good person, if you're still wondering.”

Helene leaned back in her seat. 

“Thank you for telling me that.” Natasha turned her attention over to Marya. 

“And thank you Marya for alerting Anatole I needed help and driving me home.”

“I didn’t say anything to Anatole and I didn’t drive you home”

She furrowed her brows at her. 

“You didn’t?”

Natasha had a confused look on her face. 

“It was Pierre Bezukhov. He’s the one who alerted Anatole and drove you home.”

Sonya spoke up, adding to the conversation. 

“Pierre Bezukhov? That nerdy senior boy?”

Natasha shifted her eyes from Sonya to Marya. 

“He’s not  _ that _ nerdy, just a little quiet. We’re old friends.”

Helene said, defending Pierre. 

“Oh. Do you happen to have his number? I want to thank him.”

She pulled out her phone from her purse, and opened up her contacts. 

“I think I do. Hold on.”

Helene took out her phone as well, and opened Pierre’s contact. 

“After all these years of not talking, it's a miracle I still have his number. Funny how life crosses paths again isn't it?”

She showed Natasha Pierre’s phone number, and Natasha typed it into her phone. 

“Thank you so much!”

She slid her phone back into her bag. 

“No problem.”

Helene said with a small smile. 

“So Marya, you have all these clothes and you're not gonna show us what you got?”

Sonya crossed her arms over her chest.

“Sonya, you know I don’t like fashion shows.”

Marya retorted, slightly rolling her eyes at the girl. 

“Hmmm, but you seemed to like dressing up when we were at the store.”

Helene said rather cheekily. 

“C’mon Marya, show us!”

Natasha nudged the girl, who was currently slumped over in her chair. 

“Fine.”

Said Marya, giving in to the other three’s wishes. 

“I’ll come with you upstairs.”

Natasha said, getting up from the black leather ottoman.

Helene handed Natasha the bags, and up the stairs she went, with Marya groaning behind her. 

“So… that’s her right? Helene.”

Natasha said in a lower tone, once they got inside Marya’s room. 

“Yeah that's her.”

Marya nodded, sitting down on her bed. 

“I like her. Nice, pretty. She got you to go shopping so she’s practically a Godsend.”

Natasha began to open up the bags, pulling out various items of clothing and ogling at them, holding them up in the air. 

“I asked her out on a date.”

Marya walked over to the bags, and took out a pair of jeans. 

Frozen in shock, Natasha’s eyes widened with amazement.

“You asked her out?! Marya! This is huge! I’m so proud of you!”

She wrapped her arms around her. 

“When’s the date?”

She held up the red crop top to Marya’s body.

“Monday, after school. My house. We’re gonna be purging the stuff in my closet.”

She began to slide off her tee shirt, pulling it over her head. 

Natasha handed her the shirt in her hand. 

“Of course you two are, cause that sounds so romantic…” 

Natasha jokingly said, laughing at Marya’s idea of a date. 

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea. It was actually her idea. I just said  _ ‘Hey, why not call it a date?’  _ like an idiot, and then she agreed.”

She trudged taking off her khaki’s. 

“Oh real smooth Marya.”

Natasha sat in the nook, at Marya’s window. 

“Okay, how about we talk about you huh? I told you not to drink too much last night, and then I end up saving your ass. What was that all about?”

She buttoned up the high waisted jeans, and threw her khaki’s on the bed. 

“It was a mistake. I didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

Natasha got up from the nook and walked over to the door, wanting to leave the conversation. 

“You could’ve been in real danger. You don’t know what Andrey is capable of…”

She shook her head at Natasha, in disappointment. 

“I thought you were glad to see me, and now you're lecturing me?”

Natasha spun her head around to face Marya. 

“I need to get it through your head that you need to make smarter decisions.”

Marya walked past Natasha and opened the door and walked down the stairs.

Natasha simply pursed her lips, and walked behind her. 

Marya could hear some of the conversation Helene was having with Sonya. 

“Your bangs are so bouncy! I love it. And your braided bun is so cute!”

She was fascinated with her hair. 

“Thanks! I almost burned it all off on Friday during chem lab. The bunsen burner was on high and Mary, my girlfriend, she said something so silly and I started laughing, the flame almost…”

She trailed off her words, noticing Marya step down the stairs. 

Helene looked over to see the girl stepping down the staircase in the red crop top and jeans she picked out for her. 

Even in a crop top and jeans, Marya looked stunning. Helene’s eyes wavered from Marya’s face to her body. 

“Marya, you look amazing.”

Sonya complimented the awkward girl standing by the door. 

“You look beautiful.”

Helene gasped out, and for a second Marya thought she may have seen Helene checking her out?

‘ _ No…unlikely _ .’

Natasha returned back to the ottoman in silence, still a bit peeved at what Marya said to her. 

There was no denying that Natasha has made some poor decisions in the past, but Marya was her friend. She was supposed to understand that those decisions were just mistakes. She thought Marya understood that…

For the next thirty minutes, the girls sat and watched while Marya came out in different outfits. Helene watched how lively Marya became with every outfit she put on. She felt good in these clothes, and Helene liked how good that made her feel. Knowing that she could help in some way with Marya’s self confidence made her feel like she had returned the favor of all that Marya has helped her with. She loved to see Marya smile, and she would do anything to make sure Marya kept on smiling. 

_ ‘That beautiful smile…’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So turns out Anastasia Tech is a real tech company based in Isreal... that was a complete coincidence so uhh yeah. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> I love all your comments <3  
> ~ Jordi
> 
> (find me on discord @jordanna01)


	9. Chapter 9

It had been nearly an hour since Natasha and Sonya left Marya’s house to go back home. Mugs with remnants of cold tea were scattered upon the coffee table, each one sitting on a white coaster. The only cups that were full and contained hot chai inside of them were Helene’s and Marya’s, as they were watching  _ ‘The Lion King’  _ on the TV. They occasionally sipped on their mugs while laying on the opposite ends of the sofa, underneath the blanket. 

Marya’s eyes were fixated on the screen until she noticed a little flitter of Helene’s eyes. She watched them slowly close as her head tilted back. Helene must've caught herself drifting away because she immediately jerked her head back up and turned to Marya to see if she saw. 

A small smirk arose on Marya’s face. 

“I can’t let you crash here two nights in a row Kuragina, or else your dad is gonna be furious.”

Marya reached for the remote and paused the movie.

“How about we call it a night?”

“No, no I can stay awake.”

Helene said through some incoherent mumbles. 

“It’s only 8:30.”

“It’s 11:30. You’ve basically been here all day. You gotta go back sometime. Anatole is probably already putting up your missing persons sign.”

She chuckled at her own joke.

“Shit it's already 11:30? I guess I should head home.”

The small girl pried herself off the couch and stepped into her shoes. 

“Sorry I couldn’t stay for the movie.”

She turned back to glance at the TV screen before glancing at Marya. 

“It’s  _ ‘The Lion King’  _ Helene, you’ll see it again sometime soon.”

Marya collected Helene’s things; her clutch and her bag of clothes from the gala. She handed them to Helene, who said _ thank you  _ by giving her a small smile. 

“Hopefully we can watch it on Monday after school…”

Helene brushed a stray hair behind her ear while looking to the floor.”

“On our date?”

“Uh- Sure. Yeah, totally. Maybe we can have some chips and salsa too?”

_ ‘What are you saying Marya, you don't even have chips and salsa!??!...’ _

“I like chips and salsa.”

Helene nodded in agreement with Marya’s statement.

“Good good…. Chips and salsa it is then!”

_ ‘To Do List: Buy chips and salsa.’ _

“I’ll see you on Monday then.”

Helene turned to walk to the front door, and Marya quickly jumped in front of her to open it for her. 

“I'll see you. Text in the meantime?”

“Yeah.”

Marya, quite awkwardly opened her arms to Helene, and Helene leaned in with her arms outstretched as well. Together they embraced each other in a short hug… well as much embracing as two people can do in a two second hug. 

Helene waved one final goodbye before heading down the driveway and onto the sidewalk, walking towards her house. 

And even though they are neighbors, Marya watched to make sure Helene got home safely before retreating back into her own home. 

“Chips and salsa??”

She groaned, picking up Natasha and Sonya’s mugs from the coffee table. 

Helene walked into the home with the expectations of roars and scolding from Vassily Kuragina, but to her surprise, the house was quiet. The only sound she could hear was the crickets chirping outside and the speeding cars down the highway. 

She figured Vassily would give Helene some time, and if that was the case, she respected him for that decision. She walked up the stairs and began to head to her room when Anatole suddenly opened his bedroom door, causing Helene to jump and murmur a Russian curse word under her breath. 

“Anatole! Don’t ever do that again!”

She clutched her heart and breathed heavily with a scowl on her face. 

“Where were you all day?”

Anatole looked at her wide eyed. 

“Ugh, I expected this question from dad not you… I was at Marya’s house. Why?”

She picked up her clutch which she had dropped on the ground. 

“I found something…” 

He moved out of the way so that Helene could enter his room. 

“Oh, you’ve also been decorating I see.”

She looked at the polaroid pictures strung up to the chandelier. They dangled just a few feet above Helene’s head. She grabbed a picture in her fingers to catch a better look at it.

Him and Dolokhov. 

“Yes, but I’ve also been cleaning out my photo album box.”

Anatole went over to his bed and grabbed a photo album with a worn out sunset cover on it. 

“I found this one -” He held up the album in front of her. “At the bottom of the box.”

He handed it to Helene. 

“Okay, what’s so special about this photo album?”

She eyed the thick, rectangular item in her hand. 

“Open it.”

Anatole started to pace around the room. 

Helene opened the album to see a young woman with dark hair, sitting on the roof of an oddly designed car. The woman wore a thick winter trench coat, and a pair of black boots. You could tell it was 1990’s Russia by the characters on the street signs in the background. 

“Mom…” 

Helene awed at the picture. She traced her finger over where a seventeen year old, Thalia Kuragina (or at the time Kuznetsov) was shown. 

“Now flip to the back.”

Anatole stood in front of her, somewhat chewing on his fingernail, waiting for Helene to see what he'd found. 

Helene flipped to the back of the book. It was her mother again, but this time slightly older. With her, was her father Vassily. They stood in front of a large, brown brick building. But there was something peculiar about this photo… It’s edges were singed, and right down the middle was an obvious burn that tore the photo in two. Helene carefully slid the photo out of the holder, and studied it. 

“And who is that guy?” 

Anatole pointed his finger to the arm draped around Thalia’s shoulder. It for sure wasn’t Vassily, because his two arms were perfectly in frame as he stood to the left of her. 

“I - I don’t know.”

Helene shook her head, flipping the photo between the front and backside. 

“Why is it burned?”

Helene said, looking up at Anatole.

“I don’t know.”

He sighed, as he plopped down on the bed. 

“Who has the other half?”

Helene looked at the left half of photograph once more. Her mother, father and a mystery man’s arm all were in view. She furrowed her brows trying to get something out of this, that could possibly give her a lead - any lead. 

“I don’t know Helene… This has to have something to do with what dad said earlier right?”

He jumped up from his bed and walked in front of his new oak wood television stand. 

“I mean, nobody just keeps half burned photos. Especially half burned photos with your husband on one side, and another man’s arm on the other.”

He brought his palm to his forehead and wiped the desperation off his face, clearly in distress over what is happening. 

“We should show dad and ask him.”

Helene looked up from the picture with a glare painted on her face. 

“Are you fucking kidding me Anatole?! If this is evidence of some kind, he will either take it away from us and move us to another million dollar house or he will just continue to hide the truth by saying some bullshit like ‘ _ I can’t tell you now’  _ or ‘ _ I have to protect you two’ _ . Either way, it's cryptic as hell and we don’t get answers.”

Anatole nodded in agreement. 

Helene placed the photo on the stand and stood next to Anatole. 

“We have to figure this out for ourselves…”

She looked over at her brother who had anxiety written all over his face. 

“What if we find out something we didn’t want to? Like what if mom was a part of the mafia or something? And after she married dad, they fled to America in exile so she could get out.”

Anatole ran all his words together so fast they were practically leaping off his tongue. 

“Anatole, mom wasn’t in the mafia. Get a grip.”

She playfully shoved the boy in the arm, making him stumble back a few paces. 

He chuckled, catching his footing, before sitting down on the bed. 

A small silence happened between the two siblings as Helene also sat down on the edge of the bed. 

In an attempt to clear his mind, Anatole turned his attention to his sister instead of the photograph staring back at them. 

“So you were at Marya’s house all day?” 

Helene looked over at him. 

“Yeah. After that argument, I really just didn’t want to be here. Sorry if you missed me.”

“I didn’t miss you.”

Anatole said, creating some sibling banter. 

“Ouch.”

Helene snarled back at him. 

“Kidding.”

He elbowed her arm. 

“You like her don’t you?”

He had a cheeky look on his face, grinning at his sister. 

Suddenly, the young girl’s cheeks became light pink.

“I -I… N-no. She’s just a friend of mine.”

Helene fiddled with her thumbs and gazed down at the floor. 

“Helene, I can tell when you’re lying. You do that thing with your nose.”

Anatole titled his head forward to catch a peek at her nose.

And as predicted, her nose was scrunched up and bright pink. 

“I do not do that nose thing Anatole!”

Barked a slightly annoyed Helene. 

And immediately after began to scrunch her nose again. 

Anatole clicked his tongue. 

“Okay, fine I have a small crush on Marya…”

_ Nose scrunch _

Helene sighed. 

“Big crush on Marya…”

“Awhh is this your first crush?” 

Anatole scooted over closer to her, invading her personal space bubble. 

“Yes…” She said standing up, getting away from her obnoxious brother. 

“The first real one anyway. I just hope whatever is happening with this - “ She gestured over to the photograph. “Doesn’t break my chances with her.”

“So you have a chance with her?”

Anatole beamed with delight. 

“She may have asked me on a date.”   
Helene began to smile, thinking about Marya’s cute, adorable, awkward face. 

“Awww. When’s the date?!”

He asked with curiosity.

“Monday. Her house. Khaki’s. Chips and Salsa.  _ ‘The Lion King’” _

She leaned against Anatole’s closet door and let her mind drift to Monday’s possibilities. 

“I don’t even wanna know about the khaki’s but everything else sounds cute! I’m proud of you sister.”

He hopped up and engulfed her into a gigantic hug, which seemed like it lasted forever. 

“Thanks Toly… Y’know today we went to Old Navy and I bought her nearly $400 dollars worth of clothes.”

“No you did not! With dad’s spare credit card?”

He had a shocked, but equally amazed expression on his face. 

“Yup! I bought her this really cute black crop top with a little white circular emblem on the front pocket. She looked great in it, I mean she really….”

She trailed off her words when another thought popped into her mind. 

She walked over to the TV stand and grabbed the photo. 

“Helene?”

Anatole spun around to follow her.

She brought the photograph to her face.

“Dad’s emblem on his sweatshirt…”

She pointed to the symbol on his baggy, grey sweatshirt. 

“It says SAU… I don’t know why I didn’t see this earlier.”

“Okay… I don’t see your point Helene. That’s just an acronym.”

Anatole shifted his attention between the photograph and his sister. 

“Look it's here too!”

She pointed to the brick engraving on the building they were standing in front of. It read  _ SAU 1996,  _ in freshly painted, bold red letters. 

“Remember in Moscow when dad showed us his old college? And wouldn’t stop bragging about the club he founded with a few friends?”

Her eyes flitted from the picture to Anatole. 

“No, but go on.”

Helene sighed.

“He called it the ‘ _ Science Alliance Union.’  _ It was curated so that students from the different science majors could all band together and fraternize amongst themselves to talk about science stuff.”

“That sounds like a horrible idea…”

Anatole pinched the corner of the photo, taking it out of Helene’s hands. 

“It was a horrible idea. Only three people decided to join out of all the science majors in the university. One of those students was mom.”

She pointed to the woman in the photograph. 

“The other two were freshman.”

“You really paid attention to when dad was talking about this huh?”

Said Anatole, running his finger over the burnt edges of the picture. 

“Sadly yes. I needed money to go to the mall, and looking engaged in his story was the only way I was gonna get it.”

She huffed a rigid breath. 

“Anyway, the club was a flop and they had to fire the professor who approved it. And that's where dad ended his story.”

“I still don’t get your point Helene. The club was a flop so what?”

Anatole shrugged. 

“My point is… because two people besides mom and dad joined the club, and one teacher was fired for approving the club, we now have three suspects as to who this mystery guy could be.”

Anatole’s mouth formed an ‘O’ expression. 

“We just need to find out the names of these three guys.”

Helene grabbed the photo from Anatole’s hand and set it down on the TV stand. 

“How? In 1996 Russia, I don’t think many people were using Facebook messenger to stay in touch.” 

“I was talking to one of Marya’s friends earlier today, her name is Sonya. Turns out she works at the local library. She was telling me all about their Russian literature and article’s section…”

Helene was about to speak her next sentence when Anatole finished it for her. 

“If dad’s infamous club was so big of a flop that it caused a teacher to be fired, there’s bound to be news articles written on that.”

Anatole looked at her with a newfound determination. 

“Exactly. And it most likely will contain the other students' names. We just gotta ask Sonya.”

There was a small glint in Helene’s eyes that demanded to know the truth, and with her brains and her brother’s help, they could very well gain the knowledge they needed to know. 

“Tomorrow?”

Anatole gazed back at the photo which was propped against the small TV.

“Tomorrow.”

She nodded, staring at the charred distorted line that separated the photo from its missing other half. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> predictions anyone???
> 
> thanks for reading!  
> ~ Jordi


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to put out. I couldn't write that much over the weekend.

Natasha layed wide awake with her phone screen illuminating her face in the darkness. She leaned her head on her fluffy, feathery pink pillows for support. This is what she did to cope. Drown herself in the internet until she fell asleep, momentarily forgetting the guilt she felt with disobeying Marya, and putting everyone (including herself) in harm's way. Even though she was unconscious for the entirety of the event, she could tell Andrey was not the best of people. The way Marya scolded her for her actions and the way Helene described her judgement of Andrey made Natasha fear what could have happened. She was thankful nothing horrendous happened besides a punch to the nose that was well deserved… but her mind kept saying _‘what if?’_

_What if he hurt Marya or Fedya, Anatole, Pierre?_

_What if he hurt me?_

The things he could have done to anyone were disastrous to think about. Natasha didn’t even want to indulge herself with those thoughts. To put her thoughts at ease, she decided to send a message to Pierre. 

**Natasha:** Hi. This is Natasha, the girl you drove home the other day. I just wanted to say thank you for that… and for getting help when you did. Really means a lot to me. Thank You Pierre. 

Natasha stared at the phone screen for a few moments. Was it wrong to send a thank you message to someone at 1:32am? She hoped Pierre didn’t get the wrong idea… that is if he was even awake at this hour.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed and her screen lit up again. 

**Pierre Bezukhov:** Oh, you're welcome. Can’t exactly drive yourself home when your so drunk that you become blackout and become unconscious. Am I rite?

**Pierre Bezukhov** : you’re**

Pierre’s attempt at humor left Natasha in a state of confusion. Instead of simply not responding to the message she decided to just go with:

**Natasha:** haha lol

After sending her message, Natasha decided it was time to get some sleep. Her eyes had grown heavy and every twenty seconds she found herself yawning uncontrollably. She set her phone down on the nightstand next to her, making sure to plug in her charger to her phone. 

Approximately five minutes went by before her phone buzzed again. Somehow in those five minutes she spent laying down, she did not manage to fall asleep. She groaned when picking up her phone again to see the notification displayed on her screen. 

**Pierre Bezukhov:** Sorry if that was insensitive… I hope you’re alright?

Despite how dry and awkward Pierre may seem, Natasha did smile slightly knowing that he seems to care for her without ever formally meeting her. 

She began to type back:

**Natasha:** No it wasn’t insensitive at all, It’s just 1:30am. I can’t think. Also I’m doing okay. Not the best, but okay. 

**Pierre Bezukhov:** Oh, am I keeping you awake? Im sorry. We can continue texting tomorrow... if you want to do that?

**Natasha:** No we can keep texting. I’ll just try to pull through the tiredness. It’s nice having someone to talk to who doesn't constantly remind me of the mistakes I made.

**Pierre Bezukhov:** Your friends are upset with you?

**Natasha:** Yeah… mainly Marya though. Sonya is just Sonya. And Fedya hasn’t even talked to me since the whole thing went down. 

**Pierre Bezukhov:** Wait so, who’s Marya and who’s Sonya? I know the redhead from the gala was there too. Is she Marya or is she Sonya?

**Natasha:** That's Marya. Although Sonya is a ginger as well. She’s my cousin. 

Natasha opened the _‘contacts’_ app on her phone and changed Pierre’s contact to just his first name. 

**Pierre:** Oh. Well they shouldnt be mad at you. It was pretty easy to be tempted at a place like that. Practically everyone was drinking. Plus Andrey was getting you more drunk so it wasn’t just your own naivety dragging you down. 

A few moments passed by.

**Pierre:** Sorry for calling you naive. You’re not.

**Natasha:** No, I am. And I hate that about me. This has really made me realize how much of an idiot I can be sometimes. I know I don’t make the wisest decisions, and because I do that people like Andrey have the power to use me. I’m not gonna be put in that position again. I’m gonna be better, I swear. 

**Natasha:** And you should stop apologizing. 

**Pierre:** I’m working on trying to be less anxious. I just don’t want to offend you. 

**Natasha:** Pierre, you literally saved my life the other day. Whatever you say will not offend me. 

**Natasha:** It’s okay to be anxious. 

**Pierre:** You are too kind Natasha.

**Natasha:** Friends are nice to friends.

**Pierre:** Oh, I didn't know we were friends?

**Natasha:** Yeah cause I just decided we should be friends. Is that alright with you?

**Pierre:** It's great! I just never thought you’d want to associate with someone like me.

**Natasha:** Then you don’t know me. 

For the rest of the night, the new friends chatted about various different subjects. Natasha told Pierre all about the students in the theatre club, and Pierre was fascinated with her knowledge of the arts. She might’ve even convinced Pierre to sign up and learn stage lighting. Pierre told her about the stars in the sky, more specifically, the stellar molecules that make up the molecular structures in stars. Natasha didn’t really understand it, but she blabbed to him all about the inner workings of theatre, the most she could do is listen to what he had to say. Sometime in the middle of his rambling, Natasha’s eyes began to close and her head slowly tilted back onto her pillow. Her phone fell on her mattress with a soft _‘thump’_ and her mind drifted into sleep. 

Her phone buzzed with every text Pierre had sent to her in the span of 10 minutes. 

**Pierre:** Some elements you may be familiar with which can be found in stars are Calcium, Carbon, Iron, Hydrogen, Titanium, and a whole bunch more!

_Sent ten minutes ago_

  
  


**Pierre:** Yeah stars are cool to look at but they're even more cooler when you actually get to know what’s inside of them. 

_Sent seven minutes ago_

  
  


**Pierre:** Natasha? Are you there?

_Sent three minutes ago_

  
  


**Pierre:** Goodnight Natasha. I hope tomorrow is better for you. 

_Sent one minute ago_

====

The sun shined down brightly onto the siblings as they crossed the parking lot, walking into the library. Helene donned a pair of sunglasses while Anatole just shielded the sun rays with his hand. 

“You could’ve asked for a pair of my extra sunglasses.” Helene said as she opened the heavy door of the stone building. 

“I am doing just fine with my hand, thank you.” He slipped into the entrance way and Helene closed the door behind him. 

Seeing the bookcases filled to the brim with books, Anatole couldn’t help but wonder what Dolokhov would say. He’d probably head straight over to the classical literature section and check out all the books. 

Helene looked around on the walls to see if she could find some directional guide to aid her on where to go, but she couldn’t find anything of that sort. And she couldn't really ask an employee or a friendly stranger for help because to be quite honest, the library was bare. 

Helene figured the reason was early Sunday mornings are most usually reserved for Sunday mass and not the local library. 

The only few people she could see in the library at the time was a small child in the children’s literature section, a young woman reading Shakespeare by a window, and a teenager browsing in the anime section. 

“Helene?”

A voice from behind the two said. 

Helene and Anatole spun around to see who it was, and to no surprise - it was Sonya. 

“Sonya, hi!”

Helene went in to hug the girl, who was pushing a cart filled with books. 

“Hi! What’re you doing here?”

Her eyes flickered from her to Anatole, and Anatole sheepishly waved back at Sonya. 

“We wanted to see that Russian articles section you have here, and maybe ask you a few questions. See, our father is a kinda shady man and he...Oh wait I haven’t even introduced you to my brother Anatole.”

Helene turned and motioned Anatole to come, to which he did. 

“Sonya, this is Anatole. My brother.”

Helene said as Anatole extended his hand for Sonya to shake.

“Hi.” He whispered to her.

“Hi.” She grinned. 

“Anatole, this is Sonya. One of Marya’s friends.”

“Ah, you’re a friend of Marya’s! I know Fedya really well, and I’ve just met Natasha recently too.”

Anatole tried to whisper to not disrupt the one person reading in the corner. 

Sonya’s eyes widened at the sudden realization.

“Wait a minute, you’re Anatole! Fedya’s boyfriend right?”

The word _‘boyfriend’_ made Anatole flush a shade of red. 

“Uh- Well, yes I guess so.” He chuckled slightly.

The two boys never explicitly defined their relationship, but Anatole did like the feeling of when someone referred to him as _‘Dolokhov’s boyfriend’._ It made him feel warm inside. 

“Sonya, we need your help. We found a picture last night in one of our mother’s old photo albums…” 

Helene explained to Sonya, while Anatole pulled the picture out of his back pocket. 

Sonya awed at the photo, taking it from him carefully. 

“See the arm wrapped around our mother? That guy is not our father, cause he’s right there.”

She pointed to a younger Vassily Kuragina. 

“We figured out that this photo was taken in 1996, and there's only three suspects as to who this man could be. Do you have any articles on Moscow University circa 95’-96’?”

Helene watched as Sonya inspected the peculiar photo. She ran her fingers along the burnt side of the photo. 

“I do… come with me.”

She abandoned the cart of books and walked over towards the sign that read, _‘Articles’._ Helene and Anatole followed behind her. 

“Most of the articles we have on Russia are from centuries ago, but there are some recent ones.”

She blew off some caked on dust from the old filing cabinet. When she opened the drawer labeled _‘Russia 1990’s’,_ she began to skim through the folders until she landed on the one that read _‘1996’._

“Okay we should have some stuff in here about Moscow University.”

She pulled out the file and opened it to see Russian text on many, many, many worn out yellow pages. 

She handed the file to Helene along with the photo. 

“Good luck on your search! I’ll be right over there by my cart if you need anything.”

“Thank you Sonya.”

She said as she set the file down on the table. 

Anatole already sat down and opened it, examining papers. 

Sonya went over to the cart and started sorting the array of books in alphabetical order. 

“Okay, let's do this.”

Helene moved the chair out so she could sit down. She took half of the stack that Anatole had, and plopped it down in front of her. 

“I’ll do this half, you do your half.”

Anatole nodded, so lost in sleuthing he couldn’t even respond verbally. 

Helene huffed and scanned through the papers. Most of them were just random news articles of various blizzards and avalanches - Russian things - but some of them were just local Moscow news. 

After skimming through ten articles, Helene had developed a strategy. Any article that mentioned ‘Moscow University’ in any way, shape, or form, was to go in a separate pile. All other articles would be placed aside. Anatole seemed to follow this strategy too. 

Together in the Moscow University pile, the siblings accumulated five articles. It took them nearly three hours to go through the entire stack. And even though there was no eating allowed in the library, Sonya would sometimes sneak them snacks of her packed lunch. The animal crackers and cheese squares were very much appreciated by Helene and Anatole. 

“We did it, Helene… Now all we have is this.”

Anatole took the first page of the five and began to examine it when Helene muttered out, “What if we find nothing?”

She had a blank look on her face, discouraged by the findings. 

“I mean, there’s only five pages left. How can we be so sure that one of them will be about dad?”

She set her head down on the table. 

“Helene, I know it might be tough if we finally find out the truth and we're so close to it! You can’t give up now. We deserve to know right?”

Anatole set a hand on her shoulder, and Helene slowly rose up from her arms to look at Anatole. 

“Yeah...you’re right.”

She sniffed a little bit, and began to reach for one of the papers. 

Skimming through the article, Helene deduced that it was not what she was looking for and put it in the other pile, with the other 200 articles. 

She grabbed the next article, and read the headline to herself. 

“Профессор уволен из-за того, что научный клуб пошел не так”

Rapidly tapping on Anatole’s shoulder, she showed him the headline.

“Professor Fired for Science Club Gone Wrong…” He muttered to Helene. His blue eyes were wide as he reread the headline to himself. 

Helene looked over his shoulder to skim through the article’s contents. 

“The students in the _‘Science Alliance Union’_ were founder Vassily Kuragina (Senior), Thalia Kuznetsov (Junior), Micheal Kirilovich (Freshman) and Alexei Chernyshevsky (Freshman). They were taught under the guidance of Dr. Nikolai Bolkonsky.”

Helene felt her heart sink in her chest. 

She cautiously gazed back at the photo sitting on the far end of the table. 

“You don’t think that…”

Anatole shifted his eyes between the photo and Helene. He tried to process what Helene had just read. 

“Bolkonsky was the professor. That’s Bolkonsky in that photo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 200 HITS!!!! crazy dkdkjsfkdfkdl thank you thank you thank you so much   
> thank you for sticking around and thank you for reading 
> 
> ~ Jordi


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating for an entire week you guys. My mental health hasn't been the best lately so I haven't had the time to write full chapters. But this was the first good day in the past four days, so hopefully there will be more good days soon.  
> Here's chapter eleven! A Mary chapter

Classical music played through the old radio while Bolkonsky laid in his bed. The covers restricted him, only slightly allowing him to move when he had one of his coughing fits. His daughter, Mary, was seated beside him. She watched over him, aiding him in his sickness. She always made sure she had a good book with her when her father was asleep. 

She flipped through her book - ‘ _Pride and Prejudice’._ She was always a speedy reader. Infact, this was her fourth time reading through the novel. It was her absolute favorite. Something about classical literature drew her in. When it was closing time at the library, sometimes Sonya would check out one or two books. The next day at school, she would give them to Mary and she would be elated by the artwork on the cover or the biography on the back. And sure enough, later that day Mary would call Sonya to tell her all about what she read. Those days would usually end with Sonya falling asleep to Mary’s excitable retellings. 

Mary was just about to flip to the next page when the alarm on her watch began to beep. This signalled the time her father was due to take his medication. 

She pressed the small button to silence the watch, and slid a bookmark on the page she was reading. 

Gently pushing her father’s arm, she watched his eyes shift underneath their eyelids. 

“Dad? It’s 3 o’clock. Time to wake up now.”

Her father slowly came out of his sleep, and upon seeing Mary’s face, he became startled. Suddenly pulling his arm away from Mary’s hand.

“Ah - You. Stop badgering me! Where is my daughter? Where is she?”

His voice was shaky from just awakening, and his breathing was rapid. 

A few seconds went by before Nikolai Bolkonksy fully came out of his sleep. His eyes widened, fixated on Mary. He smiled softly before resting a hand on her’s.

“Oh. Mary… I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you at first.”

He shifted underneath the heavy blankets, propping himself up on the pillows. 

“It’s okay dad… It’s time for your medicine. After you take it, we’ll have chicken and potato soup for lunch. How does that sound?”

She grabbed the glass of water that sat on the nightstand. 

“I don’t like potatoes Mary. You know that.”

He reached for his pair of glasses on the nightstand. He perched the glasses onto his nose.

“You said you liked potatoes yesterday though…”

“Did I? Hm. Well okay then…”

Mary knew her father’s dementia was getting worse and worse with every month that came and gone. Still, he refused to see a doctor for anything other than his medicine. Perhaps that was the reason why it was worsening… Mary hated how it made him forget the smallest of things. The other day, when Mary returned home from school, she found her father dressed in his old formal suit with nothing over his legs. He was pulling on his shoes, fully ready to go to the Kuragina’s gala wearing nothing but his suit, a tie, his dress shoes, and underwear. 

Instead of giving him the proper care he needed, Mary just led him back to his bed, coaxed him to put on his pajamas, and prayed to God he would eventually fall asleep. 

She rummaged through the drawer where she kept his medicine tablets. The only medicines she could find was his nightly medicine and his morning medicine. His midday medicine seemed to be anywhere but the drawer. 

“Papa? Have you seen your 3 o’clock medicine? I can’t find it.”

She looked one last time before shutting the small drawer. 

“I haven’t seen it.”

He took the glass out of Mary’s hand and sipped it gently. 

She sighed as she got up from the chair. 

“I’ll see if Andrey has seen it. Doubt it though…”

She trudged to the hallway and down the stairs, finally making her way to the basement stairwell. 

She could hear Andrey animatedly playing his video games over the loud roar of the television. 

Stepping into the room, she frowned at her brother’s behavior, as she could see many beer cans scattered across the small table in front of him. 

“You came in here, you must want something from me.”

Andrey said, not even bothering to look Mary’s way. 

“I came to ask a question.”

She kicked a fallen can that rolled to her foot. 

“Okay, what's the question?”

Andrey continued to move his thumbs over the controller as sounds of gunshots blasted through the speakers. 

“Have you seen dad’s 3 o’clock medicine? I’ve looked in the drawer where I keep it and it’s not there.”

“No.”

He shook his head and kept playing. 

“Well can you help me look?” 

Mary crossed her arms over her chest. A stern look came over her face. 

“No.”

He said, still not looking at Mary. 

“Wow thanks.”

Mary huffed and began to walk upstairs. 

“I mean, it’s not like you helped me when I got punched in the face by that stupid faggot Anatole. Why should I help you?”

He cracked open another beer and took a long sip. 

“Don’t call him that! And you were the one that kidnapped Natasha Rostova - my girlfriend’s cousin - and then attempted to hurt Anatole and Fedya…”

Mary stepped in front of the television screen, forcing Andrey to pause the game. 

“Why would I help you after you got punched? Seemed like you deserved it.”

“Why can’t you ever be on my side?!”

Andrey tossed his controller on the other side of the couch. 

“I don’t have to be on your side.”

She snarled, watching Andrey’s face go visibly red. 

“I'm your brother! You're supposed to be on my side.”

“And when were you ever on mine?!”

Mary sternly stared back at her disappointment of a brother. 

“What are you talking about?”

Andrey stood up and walked closer to the small girl. But she did not lose her ground. She bawled her fists, not breaking eye contact with him. 

“All the times I had to miss my band concerts because I had to take care of dad? All the times I had to leave school early because dad fell? All the times I had to sacrifice my own time out of my day to take care of him?! And where were you? Getting high, getting drunk, nowhere to be seen!”

Her heart pounded in her chest, and it rang in her ears. All the stress she accumulated over the years of taking care of her father seemed to be lost on Andrey. She needed to yell to get through to Andrey. If she could even get through to him, that is.

“You never offered to help. It was always me that did everything! I saved dad, you did nothing. How can I be on your side?”

She turned to walk away when a firm hand grabbed at her wrist. 

“When he dies… and he will die, who’s gonna be there for you? Mom won’t be, she’s never been. Dad won’t be. All you have is me.”

He gripped her tighter.

“Andrey?...” 

Mary’s eyes shifted between her arm and her brother’s face

“If you want to get some part of the family inheritance, I suggest you start being kinder to me Mary, cause soon I’ll be the only family you’ll have left.” 

“Let go of me, Andrey!”

She tugged at her arm, but made no budge. 

Andrey suddenly let go of the small girl’s wrist. 

It was discolored. A mix of red and pink splotches covered the space where Andrey’s hand was. 

She took one more look at Andrey before holding her wrist in her other hand, and walking upstairs. 

Continuing her search for the medicine, she decided to look on the kitchen countertop. Maybe she misplaced it when giving him his morning pills? She looked behind the bowl of fruit, the coffee machine, underneath the sink, even in the oven. Alas, the medicine was not there. 

Next, she looked in a more plausible location - The upstairs bathroom. First she took a look in the medicine cabinet above the sink. All she found was a few bandages, an empty bottle of listerine, and some vitamin tablets. Surely, she thought they could be in there. She closed the cabinet and sighed. 

“Dad, I don’t know where they could be. I’ll see if I can go to the pharmacy - “ 

She entered the room to see the glass of water spilled all over himself, as he slept with the glass resting by his side. 

“Oh dad… lets get you out of these clothes.”

She took the glass from underneath his back and set it down on the nightstand. Once she got his shirt off of him, she walked it over to the laundry bin and tossed it inside. Looking through his closet for a new clean shirt, she found a nice blue one and took it off the hanger. Right when she was about to put the hanger back onto the rod, something caught her eye. 

The pocket flap of Bolkonsky’s old suit was flipped up, and revealed a circular white cap. 

A small smile arose on Mary’s face. 

“Oh my gosh.”

She chuckled, pulling out the object, which revealed itself to be the prescription bottle of medicine she was looking for. He must’ve put it in there when he decided to go to the Kuragina’s gala. But something else brushed against Mary’s fingertips when she took out the medicine. 

Something paper-ish. 

She kneeled down to be eye level with the pocket, curious of what the item could be. She set the medicine down on the floor, and slid the thin object out of the pocket. 

“A photo?”

She stared, confused at the photo in her thumb and finger. It was just her father, Nikolai, standing in front of some brick building, with his arm mysteriously cut off. The picture was burned down the middle, so his right arm seemed to be missing while his left hand was placed into the pocket of the very same suit Mary found the photo in. 

_This must be back in Russia…_

The architecture of the building seemed incredibly foreign to Mary, and the Bolkonsky in the photo seemed to be considerably younger than the Bolkonsky which laid in the bed, snoring. 

She flipped to the backside of the photo. Across the white back had a series of numbers, written in pen. _20811291_. 

“What?... What does this even mean?”

Mary whispered, examining the strange photo in her hand. She couldn't begin to answer why the photo was burned, or who had the other half. And it wasn’t like asking her father was going to bring much help. He was lucky to remember his own daughter on most days, how could she expect him to remember something that happened years ago.

Suddenly, Bolkonsky awoke from his sleep, shouting and writhing about. 

“WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE ARE MY GLASSES? MARY, GET MY GLASSES! I CAN’T SEE!”

She rushed to her father's side, with the photograph behind her back. 

“Dad! Dad! I'm right here. Your glasses are on your head, just open your eyes.”

She shook him awake. His eyes shot open, and his glasses became askew on his face. 

“Oh - I - Thank you Mary. How silly of me…”

He fixed his glasses. 

“Why am I all wet?”

The old man wiped some water droplets off his face with his hand. 

“You spilled water on yourself. Don’t worry, I have a clean shirt for you.”

She turned to get the blue shirt which laid on the floor next to the bottle of pills. On her way to the shirt, she quickly picked up her book and slid the photograph inside. 

“I also found your medicine, so you put on this shirt and I’ll get some more water.”

She handed him the shirt, and set the pills down on the stand. She grabbed the empty glass and carried it off to the kitchen. 

Putting the glass to the water filter, she saw just how bad her bruise had gotten in the last ten minutes. It was turning a shade of purple now. She winced at how ugly it looked against her pale skin. 

_If I apply ointment to it every night, it should be gone in a week._

She thought to herself. 

She brought the full glass of water to her father, and gave him two of the pills from the bottle. 

“How’d your wrist get like that? Did you bump it on something?”

He popped the medicine in his mouth. 

“Yes. I bumped it on the countertop this morning.”

She lied. She did not bump it on the countertop this morning. 

“Be careful next time Mary.”

He tipped his head back and downed the glass of water. 

“Yes Father.”

She nodded, watching him gulp down the water. 

After wiping his mouth with his hand, he leaned his head back down on his pillow. 

“Do you think Andrey would like some chicken and potato soup for lunch? I have a taste for soup.”

He gave the glass to Mary. 

“I… I don’t think he wants soup right now.”

Mary gazed down at the floor. 

“How about you? Would you like some soup?”

“Yeah...I’ll go get us some soup.”

She nodded getting up from her chair and walked back to the kitchen. 

====

About six hours later, Mary sat alone in her room, studying the picture once more. Her father was sleeping in the next room over. She didn’t have to worry about him waking up too much because once nighttime fell, he was usually down for the entire night. 

Her phone, which sat on her bed by her feet, began to buzz. She dropped the photo and leaned forward to see who could be calling her...But she had a pretty good guess as to who it was. 

“Hello my lovely, how are you?”

Mary said, putting the phone to her ear. 

After hearing what Sonya was saying, she opened her curtains and peered through. The red head was outside at her doorstep, waving to her from down below. 

“Date night again? At 9:07pm?”

Mary laughed as she walked downstairs. 

She opened the door to see Sonya smiling back at her. 

“Well it's not my fault you're gorgeous! Plus I wanted to see you. Helene and Anatole found something at the library today, and I thought you should know.”

Sonya hugged her girlfriend before walking into the house. 

“Oh, what a coincidence! I found something today too. And let me tell you… it’s pretty odd.”

She hung up her phone and shut the door. 

“Was that a Panic! at the Disco reference?” 

Sonya gazed at Mary. 

“A what reference?”

Mary said, somewhat confused. 

“Panic! At the Disco. I keep telling you to listen.”

“Oh that band? I will listen to them… eventually.”

“Lemme guess, you're re reading _‘Pride and Prejudice’_ again?”

Sonya sat down on the couch and Mary sat down next to her. 

“It’s a good novel!”

She nuzzled into Sonya’s body. 

Sonya began to play with a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of Mary’s braid. 

“How is it that I work in the library, but you are more invested in books than I am?”

“It’s because I read the books, all you do is listen to me while I read the books. And then you fall asleep!”

Mary poked a finger at Sonya’s cheek.

“I do not fall asleep! Not often anyway.”

Sonya blushed.

“Mhmm….but okay, I wanted to show you something.”

Mary sprang up from Sonya and walked over to her room. 

A few moments later she brought out the photograph. 

“I found this in my dad’s suit pocket. I don’t know what it was doing there, but I found it.”

She gave the photo to Sonya.

“Isn't it weird? It’s burned down the middle and - “

“I know who has the other half!” Sonya looked at Mary with wide eyes. 

“What? What do you mean you know who has the other half? You’ve seen this before?”

Mary shifted her attention from Sonya to the photograph. 

“Yes! This is what I wanted to tell you. Helene and Anatole came to the library this morning and showed me the other half of this picture. They explained that they had evidence to find out who was on the other half of the photo. And so through reading many, many articles, they found out it was your dad. And here’s the photo to prove it!”

“What was on their half of the photo?”

Mary asked as Sonya set the photo down on the low table. 

“It was their mom and dad. I guess your dad taught them at his old University back in Russia.”

“Did their half also have a code on the back?”

“A code?”

Sonya grabbed the photo and flipped it. 

“20811291...What?”

Sonya stared back at the series of numbers. 

“I know right… It's too long to be a phone passcode and it's too short to be a phone number.”

Mary pointed at the numbers. 

“It could be longitu -”

“Oh my god Mary, what happened to your wrist?”

Sonya dropped the photograph on the couch and gently held Mary’s wrist. 

“Oh, I bumped it. I’m fine.”

Sonya tilted her head to look at the bruise from all angles. 

“Mary… are you sure that’s all that happened?”

She looked into her eyes. 

“Yes, Sonya. I just bumped it on the kitchen countertop.”

A small tear began to roll down Mary’s cheek.

“Mary? What happened honey?”

She wiped the stray tear from Mary’s cheek with her index finger. 

Mary sniffed, not wanting to tell Sonya. She averted her eyes to all around the room. 

“Was it your father?”

Sonya’s voice became more and more serious with every second that passed by. 

Mary shook her head slowly. Little streaks of tears rolled down her chin. 

“Andrey?...”

She placed her wrist in her lap. 

“Please don’t tell anyone Sonya… This was the only time he’s ever hurt me.”

She whispered through sniffles and tears. 

“And it’ll be the last goddamn time….”

Her head turned to the basement door. 

“Sonya. Please promise me you won’t tell. They’ll definitely take dad away and he’ll hate me forever for it. Please, please don’t say anything.”

She begged for Sonya not to say a word. She knew how strong willed she could be, and if it meant protecting Mary, Sonya would do it in a heartbeat. 

“I won't tell…”

Sonya looked back at Mary. 

“Thank you.”

Mary latched onto Sonya’s rigid body tightly. She could feel how angry Sonya was at the moment. Sonya wanted to destroy Andrey for doing what he did. She wanted to punch him, and swear at him, and show him everything she's got. But she had to show restraint for her girlfriend, Mary. 

“You’re welcome, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay with the way the plot is progressing, im thinking maybe eight more chapters? Maybe idk. It might be more than that but definitely not less.  
> Thank you all for reading!  
> ~ Jordi


	12. Chapter 12

“Detention for the both of you.”

The teacher handed both girls a red slip of paper with the word ‘DETENTION’ in big bold letters written across it. Marya stared blankly at the paper in her hands. 

“Excuse me sir, but why do we have detention?”

Helene inquired, despite having a strong suspicion as to why the teacher wrote them up for detention. 

Marya’s hand began to shake as she read the words over again. Students like her aren’t supposed to be in a place where delinquent students go. And surely, she was no delinquent. 

Helene noticed the small panic Marya was having and lightly held her hand. Marya glanced at the girl and clasped her hand, bringing her outside of her head. 

“Ms. Kuragina, I know cheating when I see it. You’ve only attended this school for less than a week, yet you're already pulling acts such as these.”

Behind the tall man, Helene could see two packets of paper, each marked with an F on them. Presumably, her and Marya’s test from last week. 

The man turned his attention to the redhead next to Helene. 

“And Ms.  Dmitryevna…”

Marya gazed at the teacher with an apologetic look on her face. She knew what she did was wrong, and she knew this would tarnish her perfect record. And even with Helene holding her hand, consoling her, she could not stop the increasing anxiety. Her eyes began to well up with tears. 

“I am disappointed to say the least. Though you are not one of my top students, I know you are better than this. In the future, I advise you not to let new friends use you like how Ms. Kuragina did.”

Helene scoffed softly, which the math teacher did not appreciate. 

He reached behind himself and grabbed the two papers on his desk. He handed Helene her test, and Marya hers. 

“I will contact both of your parents later on today to inform them that you’ll be staying after school today…. Don’t be late.”

And with that, the bell rang, signalling it was time for the next class. Helene and Marya walked out of the classroom and into the busy hallway. 

“Don’t stress alright?”

Helene squeezed Marya’s hand even tighter. 

Marya nodded back at her, wiping her small tears away. 

“I’ll see you at 3:00!” 

Helene let go of Marya’s hand and walked away, turning the corner to go to her next class. Marya stood in the hallway trying to compose herself when suddenly a voice began to speak from behind her. 

“Oooo is that a detention slip? Marya in detention? Well that’s something I’d never thought I’d see.”

Fedya came up behind Marya, spooking her a bit, causing her to slightly jolt back. 

“Hello Fedya.”

Marya grimaced. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting to class?”

“I could say the same for you Marya. Oh, and by the way, the hand holding was cute but next time you should actually tell her how you feel.”

He chuckled slightly seeing Marya’s face go pink. 

“It’s rude to watch people, Fedya. Especially when the watching is unwarranted.”

Marya walked off to chemistry class, leaving Dolokhov in the hallway by himself.

“Oh just like when you watched Helene through the window the other day?”

“Shut up.”

====

The two girls walked into the small, cold classroom. Somehow the ventilation in the school seemed to not reach this particular classroom. No wonder why they made it the detention room. A few other students were there, whom Marya had never seen before. They stared at her while she was taking her seat, which made Marya feel a little uncomfortable. 

“How's it going new girl? Already in detention huh? And you brought a friend!”

One of the boys said from behind her.

It was at this moment she realized that they weren’t staring at her, but in fact they were staring at Helene. 

Helene ignored the boy and took her seat next to Marya. 

Just then, the door burst open and a scruffy man came trotting in. He wore a tattered and shabby green jacket with an unclean striped shirt underneath. As soon as he walked in, the room filled with the pungent smell of coffee grounds and garbage. Helene turned her nose up in disgust, while Marya brought a hand to her face, covering her nose. 

The group of students groaned in agony. 

Helene turned to Marya.

“Ugh, who is this guy?”

She whispered, not wanting the teacher to hear. 

“That’s Mr. Balaga. The school's old kook. He’s crazy, but he’s chill.”

“Oh… isn't he the drama teacher?”

Helene answered back to her. 

“Yes I am the drama teacher!”

Balaga spun around to face Helene and stuck out a hand. 

“Mr. Balaga. I suppose you are Ms. Kuragina?”

He asked with an inquisitive tone. 

“Er - Yes.”

She hesitantly shook his hand. 

“Welcome! I’m sure you’ll find drama class very entertaining with me as your teacher.”

He smiled, and grabbed a piece of chalk from the old chalkboard. 

Helene wiped her hand on the edge of the desk. 

“Now students! If you know me, you know that I have three policies when it comes to the classroom.”

He drew a big number one on the chalkboard.

“ONE”

  
  


“Have fun!” 

A big grin spread across his face which left Marya, Helene, and some other students confused. 

“You kids go through enough shit already with boring lectures and stern teachers… I try to make detention as fun as possible. Which leads me to my next policy.”

“TWO”

He walked over to the door and jerked the handle so that the door swung open. 

“No closed doors! You can walk around the school, go to the cafeteria. Do whatever you want. There’s nobody here to catch you but me, so might as well let you roam free. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

A few excited gasps escaped from the mouths of the students, including Helene, who was already bouncing to leave the classroom. 

“AND THIRD!”

“Don’t tell anyone about me letting you guys do this. I don’t like snitches.”

He leaned back on the chalkboard, getting chalk dust all over his back. 

The room was silent for a few moments before Mr. Balaga rose back up and said

“Well… what’re you waiting for?! Go! Get out! Leave ya rascals.”

At that time, all other students besides Marya jumped up with their bags slung over their shoulders, practically leaping out of the room. 

Marya watched confusedly as the other students excitedly left the room. 

“Hey, aren’t you coming?”

Helene looked back at Marya who was still sitting at her desk. 

“Uh, yeah… I just…”

Marya gathered her bag and stood up. 

“What is it, Masha?”

Helene walked towards the girl, with a worried expression. 

Seeing the look on Helene’s face, Marya thought it was best to not dwell on what could've been and instead decided to make the most of the time they’re spending now. 

“It's nothing, Helene.”

Marya waved off her sadness, forcing a smile to come onto her face. She walked out of the room, and walked to nowhere in particular. She’d never seen the school hallways so empty, where would she even go?

“It isn’t nothing Marya… Are you upset because we’re missing our date?”

Helene held onto Marya’s free hand. 

“I was looking forward to it! I bought snacks, blankets… I was even planning to order some food from that Russian food market down the street for you. I just wanted everything to be perfect and now it's all ruined.”

She slumped down on the floor in front of the lockers. 

“Oh Marya…”

Helene sat down next to her, folding her legs to sit cross legged. She embraced Marya in a big hug, with her head resting on her shoulder. 

“It’s already perfect.”

She gazed into Marya’s teary eyes. 

“But what about the movie? And the - “

Marya rattled on. Her mouth moved faster than her mind. 

“It’s okay….Look.”

She used her finger to tilt Marya’s head, making her look at her. 

“I’m here. You’re here. We can just have our date here instead. No need to worry.”

Marya sniffed, while looking into Helene’s eyes. The shimmer of beauty that bounced off her irises - how it enchanted her. Though her eyesight was blurry, everything about this moment was crystal clear to Marya. She wanted to kiss Helene, and she knew Helene felt the same. She let her heart indulge in itself, and move closer towards the girl. Slowly, she inched to her face and slowly, Helene took her hand and inched it to the back of Marya’s head. 

Suddenly, Marya’s lips found Helene’s. They fit together like puzzle pieces, and Marya liked how that made her feel. She liked the feeling of Helene’s hand against the back of her neck, and the electricity in the air around her. She could hear Helene’s slow and steady breaths, humming in the back of her mind like background noise. Her eyes began to close. 

She couldn’t tell how long they stayed like this, but it felt like an eternity. Everything happened so slowly but it was all worthwhile. In reality, the kiss only lasted six or seven seconds. 

Helene breathed one last breath before slightly pulling away and opening her eyes. She rested her forehead on Marya’s. 

“Woah…”

Marya breathed out, her eyes fluttering open. 

“Yeah…”

Helene grinned at the star struck girl. Still reeling from the taste on her lips. 

“That was… “

Marya paused for a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Amazing.”

Helene finished her sentence for her, but Marya gazed into her eyes one last time and said,

“Magical.”

Helene’s cheeks began to blush scarlet and consequently, Marya began to blush as well. 

“So I, uh… I found out something about my mom yesterday… I don’t know what it all means just yet, but with everything that's happened, it could be something huge.”

Helene pulled out the photo from her bag and showed it to Marya. 

“Remember when I showed you this?”

Helene asked Marya, who just nodded in response. 

“See how there’s an arm around my mom? Well, me and Anatole did some sleuthing and figured out it’s Nikolai Bolkonsky, Andrey’s dad.”

Marya turned to Helene with wide eyes. 

“Does this have something to do with him kidnapping Natasha?”

“I don’t know, but it could… I feel like there’s something bigger going on that we just don’t know yet.”

She scanned the photo for any further evidence. Maybe something could have changed within the last 24 hours she looked at the photo.

“I did some research regarding your father and that tech company- Anastasia Tech - last night…”

Marya began. 

“It shut down back in 2016, Helene. That charity no longer exists…”

Marya handed her back the photo.

Helene stared back at the photo. 

She was sick of the lies and the secrets. For once, Helene just wanted to know what the hell was going on. Nothing about these occurrences were making sense. The only thing that seemed to make any logical sense was that something shady was going on behind the scenes with her father, her late mother, Bolkonsky, and even Andrey. There were just so many questions that had yet to be answered. 

_ Why did Andrey kidnap Natasha? _

_ How does Bolkonsky fit into all of this? _

_ Why is the picture burned? _

_ Who has the other half? _

_ What is her father hiding? _

Just then, Marya’s cell phone began to buzz. Marya scrambled in her bag to find it. Once she got a hold of it, she answered the call. 

“Sonya? What’s up?”

…

“Yeah, I’m at school, stuck in detention which is actually kinda nice.”

She glanced at Helene. 

…

“Woah, slow down Sonya… Yes Helene is with me. What’s wrong?”

She put the girl on speaker mode.

“Helene? This is Sonya. I have new information about the photo. Yes, that's Bolkonsky’s arm in the photo, but he also has the other half. Mary found it last night.”

“I should've known Bolkonsky had it.”

Helene scoffed.   
“Thanks Sonya. You’ve been a real help in all of this.”

“That’s not all… There’s some sort of code on the back of the photo.”

“A code?”

A confused expression came about Helene and Marya’s face. 

“Yes. 2-0-8-1-1-2-9-1”

Sonya paused between every number to read them aloud. 

Helene turned to Marya to see her scribbling the numbers on her hand. 

“We need to get everyone on deck about this. Marya, can you call Fedya and tell him to come by my house tonight?”

Helene asked the girl beside her. 

“On it.”

“Mary and I will be there too. I’ll bring Natasha as well.”

Sonya said through the phone. 

“I’ll call Pierre. Tell everyone to be at my house by 7:00. There’s some shady stuff going on, and we need everyone’s help.”

“Right. We’ll see you then.” 

Sonya hung up the phone and Marya slid the device back into her bag. 

====

For the rest of the detention, Helene and Marya ended up laying against each other, watching various shows on Netflix, watching youtube videos and sometimes even taking small naps in between. 

It was undeniable and indisputable how much they enjoyed each other's company. Their hands intertwined with one another’s and they laughed hours on end. And even with this huge mystery looming over Helene’s mind, she found that with Marya she could forget her worries and focus on her instead. She liked having a person she could trust, and someone she knew who would go great distances for her. 

_ And that kiss…  _

Like Marya said, it was magical. Helene knew for sure, that Marya was the one for her. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3  
> ~ Jordi


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry this chapter took so long to put out. School has started back up for me, and even though everything is online, the professors are giving like triple the amount of work. I dont know if thats just a college thing or a online schooling thing but I have so much work to do every night. That being said, there may be longer waiting times between chapters. I will try my best to not exceed more than 2 and a half weeks.

**[12:28pm]**

“ANDREY!”

Bolkonsky yelled from his bedroom, laying on the ruffled sheets of his bed. He shielded his eyes away from the afternoon sunlight with the palm of his hand. It beamed down on him through the open curtain of the window. 

Andrey paused the video game he was very much enthralled in, and set his controller down. Surprisingly, there was not one beer can in sight. After him and Mary’s little feud yesterday, it became clear to Andrey that something had to change with his habits. Yes, he has hurt other people in the past, but Mary? His own sister? Never. And even though he rarely ever showed it, and rarely let her know, he truly did love Mary - and still does. Hurting her is where he drew the line. Afternoons were now beer-less, and Andrey was fine with that… But it would take some getting used to. He was so used to that buzzed feeling. 

He slowly walked into the old man's room. The room looked foreign to him. There were empty medicine bottles scattered about on the dresser, clothes tossed on the floor with hangers thrown on the bed. To say the least, the room was a mess. It was evident that Bolkonsky had another one of his fits again. 

“Papa, what did you do?”

Andrey began to pick up the clothes on the floor while Bolkonsky sat upright in his bed. 

“Well, Mary isn’t here to bring me lunch, so I guess you’ll have to today….Where is Mary by the way? Usually she comes to bring me soup.”

He scoffed, turning his head accidentally towards the sunlight. He shielded his eyes again. 

“That still doesn’t explain the mess.”

Andrey took a hanger from off the bed and slid it through the sleeve of a blue pajama gown. 

“It does explain it boy!... You are just like your mother...Anyway, I was hungry but Mary is not here to cook for me. And would you close these damn curtains?!”

He tossed the shirt on the bed and trudged over to the curtains with a slight smirk on his face. 

“Isn’t it 12:30 something? You should be sleeping. Mary is always at school at this time.”

“Maybe I could sleep if I had something to eat and those curtains were closed!”

As the light faded out of the room, Bolkonsky laid his head back again on the pillow. His bed creaked underneath him as he shifted his weight - trying to become more comfortable. 

“You could have closed them yourself instead of throwing your clothes like a child. And you could’ve gotten something from the fridge… I swear, Mary baby’s you too much.” 

Andrey walked back over to the bed and grabbed the shirt. He hung it on the rod in the closet, with the other array of clothing. 

Just then, there was a knock at the door followed by the ringing of the doorbell. 

Andrey jerked his head over to the doorway.

“Who is that?! I did not invite any guests.”

Bolkonsky sat upright again. 

“I’ll go see. You stay here.”

He exited the room and walked to the front door. Looking through the small window of the door, he could see a face he hadn’t seen in months. He swung open the door. 

“Vassily Kuragina. Nice to see you old friend. You’ve been distant lately.”

Andrey studied the man. Beard grown out, hair disheveled. He held a small clutch in his hand. Andrey knew what that was. 

“Do you have something for me?”

The boy reached his hand out to the tired man, who began to open the clutch. 

“It isn’t for you, it is for your father.”

He pulled out the wad of green paper and placed it into Andrey’s hand. 

Eyeing the money, he thumbed through it, like a deck of cards. Mentally calculating the total. 

“This isn’t all of it. Where’s the rest?”

Andrey waved the money in the man's face. 

“I - I don’t have it right now, but please of you’d just give me some more time, I can -”

Vassily begged, tripping over his words. 

“To my understanding, the agreement was that you were to pay off $100 thousand dollars to my father. Four years ago, you paid $50 thousand. Three years ago you paid $30 thousand. Two years ago you paid $20 thousand. And last year, you paid ten. This is only $5,000… Where is the rest?”

Andrey stood face to face with the man. He knew Kuragina was at least somewhat frightened of him, otherwise he wouldn’t have begged the way he did. 

“The treatments for my wife… I had to use the money for that. I can come up with the rest if you just give me more time, please.”

Andrey gritted his teeth, growing more and more frustrated with the man on his doorstep. 

“My father is currently dying as we speak. His condition gets worse every single day, and you can’t even come up with $5,000 to pay off your dead wife’s mistakes. Every minute you waste not paying what you owe, is every minute wasted of his deteriorating life. If he wasn’t dealing with dementia, he would've gotten your sorry ass sent back to Russia by now.”

Andrey slid the money into his back pocket and began to close the door, when Kuragina placed his foot in the way. 

Stepping closer to the teenager, he balled his hands in a fist. 

“You got a lot of nerve to be talking to me like that, boy.”

“Says the man who yearned for his wife’s love while she was on her deathbed. Isn’t she the entire reason you’re in this predicament in the first place? She hated you so much that in her final years she chose to love my father and not her own husband. Don’t you see how pathetic you look?”

“That wasn’t love. That was a delusion. Thalia loved me, and I loved her. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I suggest you don't involve yourself with grown people’s business young man. The waters can get high if you don’t know how to swim.”

The veins on Vassily’s forehead nearly looked like they were ready to burst. His knuckles were white from squeezing his hands. 

“Looks like you're the one sinking Kuragina.”

Through Vassily’s attempts at looking threatening, Andrey was not fazed one bit. If Kuragina punched him in the face right now, the man’s reputation would be over. His son, Anatole already did that, and Andrey was being kind not letting the public get a hold of that information. He had so many social status ruining accounts against Kuragina and his family that they’d better be thankful to him, cause the wealth could all be over if Andrey just let slip a few small details. 

  
  


“You’re one nasty son of a bitch. Worse than your father. Now I understand why Sasha left all those years ago. You probably gave her a hard time.”

Vassily felt a smirk come across his face after seeing a tinge of hurt in Andrey’s eyes. He knew his words cut deep, which is exactly why Andrey needed to hear them. 

“Bring me the $5,000 by Wednesday. If you don’t show up by midnight, I will find a way to ruin you. Your status, your friends, your gala’s… it’ll all be gone. I’ll expose you as the fraud you are. You’ll go to jail and nothing you own will be yours anymore. Believe me on that. Step off of my property.”

Andrey watched as he turned to leave. He watched as he stepped into his car and drove down the long driveway, disappearing down the street. Did he feel threatened by Kuragina? Not at all. Now that he was on the other side of the hostile words, something didn’t feel right with him. 

He closed the door and trudged back to Bolkonsky’s room. 

“Vassily Kuragina came by, and he brought a gift.”

He took out the wad of cash from his back pocket and displayed it to Bolkonsky. 

“Is that the final payment?”

Bolkonsky reached out for the money and Andrey set it in his hands. 

“Not quite. The man still has to pay $5,000. I made it clear to him that if I don’t have the money by Wednesday, I will destroy his life.”

Said Andrey as his father gave him back the money. 

“That’s my boy. Y’know Mary might've gotten your mother's genes but I can tell you, you’ve definitely got mine. Strong willed. Determined. No backing down.”

Bolkonsky leaned back in his bed. 

“You are none of those things Father.”

Andrey deadpaned, picking up more of the thrown clothes. 

“Whatever.”

Bolkonsky murmured something in Russian, which Andrey could not understand. 

“Put that money in the safe with the rest and do not bother me again! I’ll be sleeping.”

He grabbed the heavy blanket and pulled it over himself, turning on his side. 

“Okay dad.”

Andrey huffed, closing the door behind him. Realizing something, he stopped short and turned back around, opening the door to pop his head in the doorway. 

“I thought I said ‘Do not bother me’! I know I forget things, but I clearly stated-”

Bolkonsky began to say before Andrey interrupted him.

“I don’t have the code. Where's the picture?”

Andrey poked his head through the doorway. 

“Last time I had it, I was going to the Kuragina gala. I was going to rub it in that bastard's face.”

“You didn't go to the gala. You can’t be seen like this remember? That’s why we need Kuragina to give us the rest of the money. So we can find world class treatment for you.”

This was the lie Andrey told his father to give him solace, and his father was ignorant enough to believe him. Dementia didn’t even have a cure! What kind of world class treatment did he think Andrey would provide?! It was better to let Bolkonsky pass so he could inherit the money as dictated in his will. 

He walked over to the closet door and hung up some more clothes. He found the tuxedo Bolkonsky was planning to wear and checked the pockets. 

“It’s not in here dad. I’m checking the pockets and nothing is in here. Are you sure you left it in your tux?”

Andrey looked all around the tuxedo jacket. He couldn’t find the photograph anywhere. 

“I am sure of it. I put it in there right after I put my medicine in my pocket. Now, can you please leave. I have to get some sleep.”

Bolkonsky grew more and more irritated in every breath. 

_ ‘Medicine?...’  _

“Father, was this the same medicine that was missing a few days ago?”

Andrey turned to look at him. 

“Yes, but it's okay. Mary found it. Now leave me be Andrey!”

Andrey stepped out of the room with his mind racing. He was never meant to get Mary involved in this. She couldn't know! She would definitely leave the family if she found out the whole truth, and with the way she’s been feeling towards Andrey lately, she's hanging on by a thread. 

This would be the incident to cut the wire.

If Mary left, Andrey would truly be alone. Nowhere to go. Alone with his father who’s days were numbered. He didn’t have Helene, he surely won’t have Natasha… He was alone. 

====

**[6:58pm]**

“Great everyone’s here! So let's start at the beginning. Last week, Natasha was abducted by An-”

Helene began, standing in front of the group of eight. They were all huddled in Helene’s room. Natasha, Fedya, and Anatole sat on the couch while Sonya and Mary laid on her bed. Pierre found a spot on the bed bench at the end of the bed and seeing as though there were no other available spots, Marya was forced to sit next to Pierre. 

“Wait a minute, if we're going to be starting from the very beginning, I think you should talk about that discussion you and Andrey had at the gala.”

Pierre rose up his hand. 

Helene shot Marya a quick look before looking down at the ground. 

“She doesn’t have to talk about it if she doesn't want to, Pierre.” 

She elbowed the boy in his side, causing him to wince in pain. 

“It’s not relevant to what we’re here to discuss anyway. So, about last week. Natasha…”

She gestured over to where Natasha was sitting. Natasha lowered her head in slight embarrassment. 

“Was abducted by Andrey Bolkonsky, Mary’s brother. Most of us were all there when it happened. I was at Marya’s house sleeping. Sonya, you were on your way home right?”

“Yeah, it would've taken me longer just to turn right back around and go back.”

Sonya explained. 

“Yes, and that's when I messaged Marya and told her what happened.”

Mary added to Sonya’s sentence. 

“Okay fast forward, you’re all at Mary’s - except Sonya and I -”

She turned to Anatole.

“You punch Andrey in the face.”

“He deserved it though!” 

Fedya chimed in. 

“He deserved it! And he was going to hurt Fedya. He needed to be punched.”

Anatole leaned back on the sofa. 

“Look, we know that whatever is happening with dad is connected to Nikolai Bolkonsky. So punching his son in the face - probably not the best idea in retrospect Anatole.”

Helene said to Anatole. 

“It was a good punch though. Really socked him.”

Pierre gave an impressed look towards Anatole, who simply smiled proudly. 

“Anyway, you saved Natasha. She gets home safe. After that, Anatole finds this.”

She grabbed the photo from off her dresser. 

“The burned, one half photo of my mom, my dad, and Nikolai Bolkonsky. Russia 1996.”

Helene holds out the photo so everyone can see. 

“Excuse me? Nikolai Bolkonsky? How did you figure that out? It’s just an arm.”

Fedya asked Helene. 

“I went to the library, did some research. Anatole and I found an article that basically confirmed that this arm belongs to none other than Nikolai Bolkonsky.”

She gave the photograph to Marya so it could be passed around the room. 

“Why does it look like that?”

Natasha turned her head to the photo as Pierre was holding it in his hands. 

“You mean why is it torn? I don’t know.”

Anatole shrugged. 

“No, why is it burned?”

Natasha asked, inquisitively. 

“I don’t know.”

Helene responded to her. 

“Well do we know who has the other half?” 

Fedya said as he passed the photograph to Natasha. 

“That's where I come in.”

Mary pulled out the other half of the photo from her bag and everyone leaned in closer to see. Natasha brought the half she was holding next to Mary’s half. They fit almost perfectly with each other.

“I found this in my dad's suit pocket. And, it even has some weird code on the back.”

She flipped the photograph over to reveal the backside of it. 

“Mary, what happened to your arm?”

Natasha dropped the photograph in her hand, and reached out to grab Mary’s wrist, wanting to inspect it. The girl had adhered white gauze to the mark, so it wouldn’t infect. It was really hard not to notice, but somehow Natasha was the only one who managed to spot it, besides Sonya of course. 

“Oh, it's nothing. I just bumped it, that's all…”

She hid the gauze under the cuff of her sleeve. 

“I’m fine.”

Mary felt Sonya’s hand on her arm tense up a little. 

She could tell Natasha didn’t fully believe her, but she just nodded and smiled anyway. 

A small silence lingered in the room before Fedya spoke up. 

“So what’s the code?”

“2-0-8-1-1-2-9-1”

Marya read off the numbers she scribbled onto her hand earlier that day. 

“What’s it for?”

Pierre asked Marya, but Marya just shrugged her shoulders, saying  _ ‘I don’t know’ _

“But wait, we’re getting ahead of ourselves… Turns out the charity my dad supposedly donates the earnings to is a charity that doesn’t even exist anymore. It’s all a scam.”

Helene plopped down on the side of the bed, forcing Sonya and Mary to scoot over. 

“Anastasia Tech?”

Anatole said in astonishment. 

“Yeah. Marya did some research and found out they shut down in 2016. So whatever Dad is doing with this money must be for something big.”

Natasha handed back the photograph to Helene, and Helene shook her head staring back at it. 

“This is so ridiculous. We’re just a bunch of kids, possibly uncovering a crime. Like, why does it have to be us? Why can’t we just deal with regular teenage issues like crushes or college? Mom dying was already enough, and now this…. I just want a break.”

Helene felt a tear roll down her cheek, and quickly swiped it away. 

Marya came up beside her, placing a hand on hers. 

“We can take a break, Helene. We don’t have to keep solving everyone else’s mysteries. You know that right?”

Marya said, gazing into Helene’s eyes. Helene sniffled, breathing out a bated breath. 

“Yeah Helene, it's okay if this is too overwhelming for you. We don’t have to figure anything out even if we want to. You can’t let this eat you up though.”

Anatole said to his sister, who simply smiled back at him and nodded. 

“Okay, yeah. We should take a break. It’s been a rough couple of days, so maybe for the next few days, we just... take it easy.”

Helene wiped away another tear that somehow managed to fall. 

“Meeting adjourned then?”

Sonya asked from behind Helene. 

“Meeting adjourned.”

Helene responded back. Marya gave Helene a small hug, and Helene rested her head on her shoulder. 

Everyone else started shuffling around, getting up from their seats and grabbing their jackets. Pierre grabbed his, but very much like Pierre, was unable to find the sleeves. Thankfully, Natasha was there to help assist. 

“Thank you, Natasha.”

Pierre beamed a small smile at the girl. 

“Call me Natalie. Natasha’s so formal.”

Natasha smiled back at him, almost blushing. 

“Okay then, Natalie.”

Pierre said just before walking to the door of Helene’s bedroom and slipping out. 

Natasha watched longingly as he did. 

“Oooo someone’s crushing I see.”

A voice, who could only be Sonya, said from behind her. 

“I am not crushing. I just find his dorky-ness behavior charming.”

Natasha said to her as she was pulling on her white jacket. 

“Mhmm, that's exactly what Mary told me before we started dating.”

Sonya crossed her arms with a slight smirk on her face. 

“Hm? I heard my name.”

Mary walked over to where Sonya was standing. 

“Oh, just telling Natasha that her crush on Pierre is very obvious.”

“It's not a crush Sonya.”

Natasha zipped up her jacket.

“What? Natasha has a crush?”

Fedya said from across the room, waltzing over to the group of three. 

“I do not!”

Natasha stomped her foot on the ground in annoyance, which garnered a snicker from Sonya. 

“Is it Pierre? I bet it's Pierre.”

Fedya not so secretly whispered in Sonya’s ear. 

“It is.”

She, not so secretly, whispered back. 

“You two are the worst.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at the duo. 

“I support it. You and Pierre.”

Mary chimed in, speaking in her soft voice as always. 

“Thank you Mary, but Pierre and I will not nor will we ever be a thing because I do not have a crush on Pierre. And that’s a fact.”

Natasha walked towards the bedroom door and exited, walked down the hallway and down the stairs. The front door opened and closed behind her. 

“She has a crush on Pierre.”

Helene turned to say after watching Natasha make her grand exit. 

“She definitely does.”

Marya added on. 

Sonya, Anatole, and Fedya laughed in amusement. 

====

After about ten minutes or so, everyone left the Kuragina residence to go back home. Marya didn’t really want to leave, but she remembered she had homework to attend to, and it wasn’t going to get done if she stayed at Helene’s. 

She turned the key to her house and walked in. The cool air of the air conditioner met her face. She forgot to turn it off when she left for school this morning. She walked over to the thermostat and adjusted the temperature. 

Grabbing a few snacks (the chips and salsa; Helene excluded unfortunately) from the cabinet, she poured herself a bowl and set it down on the coffee table. Then, she opened her bag and pulled out her homework. Of course it was calculus. 

She groaned. 

Maybe she should have stayed at Helene’s house… The girl’s a freakin’ Math God. 

She was about to tackle the first problem when her phone started to ring. Without thinking she grabbed it, not bothering to look at the Caller ID.

_ ‘Yes! Helene! Save me from this math work please.’ _

She answered the phone. 

“Helene, thank God. I have this math homework sheet and it would be a great help if you came over and helped me with it.”

Marya said with her shoulder holding up the side of the phone, as she held her pencil in one hand and a salsa dipped tortilla chip in the other. 

“Helene? Marya, this is your mother! Who’s Helene?”

The woman on the other end spoke through the phone. 

Marya froze in her place. 

“M-mom?”

Marya dropped the pencil on the table and went to hold the cell phone, bringing it closer to her ear. 

  
  


“Yes, Marya. I got some call in the middle of the night from your calculus teacher, Mr. Bronstein. He says you cheated on your math test and earned a detention. That just doesn’t sound like you, Marya.”

Marya began to furrow her brows at the woman on the phone. 

“Like you're supposed to know right?”

She spat back at her. 

“Excuse me?”

“You’re never here. How are you supposed to know who I am?! You’re gone all the time.”

She aggressively waved the chip around in the air as she spoke, dropping bits of salsa on the floor. 

“I know you enough to know that you’re not a troublemaker and you wouldn’t ever do anything to earn yourself a detention. You are better than that. Smarter than that!”

“Says the woman who’s always out somewhere else instead of at home with her daughter. You're supposed to be better Mom, not me!”

A trickle of a tear came down Marya’s face as she yelled through the phone.

“I’ll be home Wednesday. Guess you’ll see me then.”

Marya heard the beep on the other end. A small silence grew on. 

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

She mumbled into the phone before looking at it to see her mother was no longer on the line. 

A sigh escaped her mouth. She plopped back down on the couch - (she didn't even realize she was standing). She put her head in her hands and began to burst into tears. 

After five minutes of crying she received another buzz from her phone, but this time, it was a text message. 

**Helene:** Hey, Question 7 on the Calc hw is kinda difficult. You need help on it?

Marya sniffed and began to type back. 

**Marya:** Yeah. Wanna come over? I have chips and salsa

====

**[1:26am]**

Mary laid in her bed, reading more of her favorite book  _ ‘Pride and Prejudice’.  _ A smile spread across her face as she read. Her feet kicking up and down, bouncing on the bed. 

She knew it was well past midnight, and that her light shouldn’t even be on. But she was the one who paid for the electricity in the house, surely she could scrape up her savings to pay a little extra this month. 

When she got home a few hours ago, she made sure she replaced the photograph back into her father's suit pocket. Thankfully, he was sleeping when she walked into the room. She made sure the hallway was clear, even though Andrey is always in the basement and rarely ever comes up to the first floor. 

As she was about to flip to the next page, she heard a knock at the door. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Her father had a tendency to sleepwalk at night. And if he wasn’t sleepwalking, he was hungry and came to Mary’s door to demand food. 

Mary placed the bookmark on the page and set the book down on the bed. 

“Yes Father?”

She opened the door to see Andrey’s face, much to her surprise.

“Oh, Andrey. Hi. What’re you doing awake?”

She tried to strike up a conversation, only he did not respond. Instead he glanced over at the bandage on her wrist.

Mary took her other hand and held the bandage, shielding it away from Andrey’s view. 

“It’s healing.”

She said to him and he nodded back at her. 

A few seconds went by, where they did not say anything to each other. They just stared. Quietly. 

“Well… I should probably head to bed now. I’ve been reading for most of the -”

Mary began before Andrey cut her off and said, 

“I’m sorry… For hurting you.”

He spoke low, and steady. 

Mary could tell it was genuine. He didn’t smell of beer, cigarettes, or anything. 

  
  


“I - Okay.”

Mary nodded. 

“I didn’t drink at all today.”

He cleared his throat. 

It’s been a while since the two siblings actually had a conversation that didn’t involve yelling, or cursing, or alcohol. He didn’t know how to talk to her, and surely Mary didn’t know how to talk to him either. But she could appreciate the effort. 

“That’s a start.”

Mary half smiled at him and he smiled back. 

“Hey, uh did you ever find that medicine that you were looking for a couple days ago?”

Andrey said to his sister. 

“Oh, um yeah, it was in the medicine cabinet.”

Mary cooked up a lie. She couldn’t tell him about the photo, it was too risky. That's like giving a house robber a pair of keys to the house! She had to stay quiet. 

“You told me it wasn’t in there when you looked.”

He tilted his head at Mary, who began to sweat trying to cover up her lie. 

“Oh right because when I looked it wasn’t but then I took a closer look and found it. It was behind a hairbrush.”

She laughed off at the end. 

“Uh huh… Alright. Goodnight then.”

He walked away and disappeared into the dark hallway. 

“Night, Andrey…”

Mary said softly, not even sure if Andrey even heard her. What does it matter anyway? He was onto her. Does he know something about the photograph? Helene even said she thought the photograph and Andrey were connected somehow… maybe she could be right?

She slowly closed the door and switched off the light. 

====

Andrey walked down the stairs, and into the basement. The stairs creaked under his weight. 

On the table sat the $5,000 dollars, Vassily Kuragina gave to him earlier the previous day. 

In his hand, he held the photograph, with the code faced upwards. 

_ 20811291 _

He carefully pushed the couch out from the wall, revealing a hatch in the floor, underneath the carpet. It was wooden and heavy, but that wasn’t a problem for Andrey. He lifted the hatch with ease. 

He swiped the money from off the table and climbed down into the hole, pulling the hatch back over him. 

It was cold. There was no heat down here, and the cement flooring and walls only added to the issue. The cold bars of the ladder stung Andrey’s hands. 

Once he reached the ground, he walked over to the small black vault in the middle of the floor. 

Taking the picture out once more, he looked at it and punched in the numbers on the keypad. 

20 - 8- 1 - 12 - 9- 1

The safe opened and he slid the money in, placing it among the rest of the $90 thousand. 

Andrey always knew his father was a smart guy, and yes the dementia very much took that title away from him, but before then he was a professor at Moscow University - one of Russia’s top colleges. 

Even when his mind was dwindling, his father still retained some part of his cleverness. 

And that cleverness must have been passed down to Andrey, because just from looking at the code. He knew exactly what it meant. 

The numbers correspond to the letters in the alphabet. 

And sure enough, the code he typed in translated to:

_ “THALIA” _

Thalia Kuragina. His Father’s former flame before Vassily Kuragina stole her away from him. 

_ That bastard man.  _

He shut the door of the safe and it locked into place, clicking like gears. He then turned around, and made his way up the ladder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels good to be writing again after a long time of not being able to.   
> Here's a long chapter for y'all  
> Thank you all soo soo soo much for reading. 
> 
> ~ Jordi


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii everyone! I know I haven't updated in nearly a month. Schools just been a lot. Today was one of the first days in a long time where I didn't have anything due. I don't know when yall can expect the next chapter, but I'll try my best.

**[8:37pm]**

The two girls, Marya and Helene, sat on the sofa in Marya’s living room. Their homework sheets laid side by side, with Helene’s graphing calculator placed haphazardly across the paper. The two were doing homework, that is until Marya broke down in sobs. She recounted the conversation she and her mother just had on the phone an hour ago.

“So your mom is coming home?”

With a concerned look in her eyes, Helene set a half eaten tortilla chip on her salsa stained napkin. 

“On Wednesday… It's just… She’s so….”

Marya struggled to come up with the words. Even from a young age, Marya could remember the times when her mother failed to be there for her. It was always work this, and business meeting that. And as Marya got older, and her mother climbed the ranks in the world marketing business, the meetings became trips, which meant days, weeks, months away from home. Marya hated the way her mother put work before her own child. And if Marya was ever so lucky to have one of her own, she vowed she would never treat them like this. 

“I understand… I know it's not the same but, as mom's diagnosis got worse and worse, she spent less and less time hanging out with us - Me and Anatole. She was always so weak and frail. There were times when I just needed a mom y’know. Someone who could wrap me up in a hug and tell me everything was gonna be alright. But she was always at the hospital, back and forth. Masha, I may not know how it feels to have an absent mother come back, but I know how it feels to be without one. It hurts. But I’m here.”

Helene rested her hand on Marya’s. 

She gazed into Helene’s eyes, and a small smile arose on her face. 

“You’re too kind for this world Helene.”

A single tear rolled down Marya’s cheek. 

Helene gently wiped it away, and returned the smile. 

“For you, ma chere.”

“Earlier today, I really enjoyed spending my detention with you.”

Marya began to blush just remembering the kiss she shared with Helene. It all felt so magical - so movie-like. 

“I did too. I liked the part when that crazy teacher, Bal…-”

Helene had some trouble remembering the name of the eccentric drama teacher. 

“Balaga.”

Marya finished for her. 

“Balaga. Yeah, I liked when he came into the classroom looking like he’d just crawled out of a swamp. Are you sure he isn't some human reincarnation of Shrek?”

Helene popped a tortilla in her mouth. 

“Actually no, I’m not sure about that.” Marya chuckled. 

“I also liked the part when a pretty redhead kissed me in the hallway.”

Helene leaned into Marya. 

“Oh?”

If Marya was blushing before, her face just became ten times a deeper shade of red. 

“Yeah, I think that part was my favorite. And I think I'd very much like to be her girlfriend… What do you think?”

Helene turned her head, looking up into Marya’s eyes. 

“I - I…. She would like that a lot.”

Her heart was racing, and she was pretty sure Helene could feel it. 

“Nice…”

And now it was Helene who was blushing a shade of red. 

“I honestly don’t know where I’d be if I hadn’t met you Marya. It’s like, since day one of me living here you’ve done nothing but help me. I’m a better person now that I’ve met you, and I thank God every day for bringing me to you. You’re so smart and hardworking, not to mention beautiful…”

She nuzzled into the crook of Marya’s neck. 

“You’re perfect.”

“No one’s ever called me perfect before…”

Marya tilted her head down to see Helene’s messy curls sprawled over her chest. 

“I’m glad I’m the first.”

They stayed like this for the next thirty minutes. Helene leaning against Marya, and Marya loving every second of it. She still couldn’t quite believe it honestly. How she ended up being so lucky to know Helene, be friends with Helene, be more than friends with Helene. 

_ Is it too early to say “I love you?” _

Just then, Helene turned her body to look up at Marya.

“We should finish our homework now.”

“Five more minutes?”

“Okay.”

===

Pierre walked into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. Since he went to Helene’s house earlier, he hadn’t had any time to catch up on his astrology homework. He slumped down in his desk chair and began ruffling around in his bookbag for the homework. Once he finally found it, he pulled it out and smoothed it out on the desk. It was crumpled by all the other papers, folders, and books. 

He hoped that his teacher would still accept it. 

Picking up a pencil, he began to complete the homework assignment. Around question five, he felt a buzz in his pocket. 

He slid his phone out of his pocket to see a notification from Natasha (He needs to change her contact name to Natalie.)

**Natasha:** Just making sure u got home safely?

He began to type back.

**Pierre:** Yes, I just got home about 25 minutes ago. You?

**Natalie:** I’m still in the car. We had to drop off Mary at her house. 

**Natalie:** Sonya says hi 

**Pierre:** Hi Sonya. Is it a long way home?

**Natalie:** Another ten minutes or so, but Sonya’s driving is about the speed of a turtle so maybe 15

Pierre chuckled at Natalie’s joke. 

**Pierre:** I’m going to tell Sonya you said that.

**Natalie:** She knows! She says she's being cautious, but the only reason she says that is because she knows I drive fast. She just wants to give me a lesson on how to drive  _ ‘properly’ _

**Pierre:** Ha, at least you still can drive. Helene failed her driving test twice. 

**Natalie:** Twice? God, what did she do wrong?

**Pierre:** Ran a few lights, almost crashed. 

**Natalie:** Yikesss. I guess I should be grateful for Sonya’s slow driving. 

**Natalie:** Hey speaking of Helene. She told me you two used to be friends?

**Pierre:** Yeah, we kinda drifted apart a few years ago. With her moving around so much it was hard to stay in touch. 

**Natalie:** You two never dated though. Or have you?

Pierre was kind of taken aback by this question. Why would Natasha ask if he and Helene ever dated? Sure, the thought has crossed Pierre’s mind before but Helene would never go for a guy like Pierre. And by the same logic, Natalie would never either. He’s just too awkward, too unsure of everything, too Pierre. 

**Pierre:** No, we never dated. I don’t have a shot with her at all. Besides, I think she and Marya have a thing for each other. 

**Natalie:** Oh they definitely do. Do you see the way Marya looks at her? She's lovestruck. 

**Pierre:** Yeah, its the same way Sonya looks at Mary. And the way Fedya looks at Anatole.

  
  


**Natalie:** Are all of our friends dating?

**Pierre:** I don’t know if Marya and Helene are official yet, but they're certainly headed that way. 

  
  


**Natasha:** Wouldn’t it be kinda funny if we dated? The last two lone friends. 

**Pierre:** Yeah, it would be. 

Now it was clear to Pierre that Natalie did not want to be in a relationship with him. If that wasn’t already evident with the playful flirting, and friendly banter. Natasha just thinks that Pierre’s a joke. Is that how he comes across? A joke? 

**Natalie:** I’m home now

**Pierre:** Oh nice. 

**Natalie:** If you’re not doing anything right now, maybe we could facetime and watch a movie together? Now that I’m home. 

**Pierre:** I actually have to finish up some astrology homework, but thank you for the offer. 

**Natalie:** Oh… okay. Well, I’ll see if Sonya might want to watch a movie then. 

**Pierre:** Alright

**Natalie:** Yeah.

**Natalie:** Goodnight Pierre. 

**Pierre:** Night. 

Pierre set down his phone on his desk and returned to the homework assignment staring back at him. 

Natasha walked out of her room, and entered the hallway. She knocked on Sonya’s door, before slowly opening it and entering. 

“Sonya, can I talk to you?”

Sonya, who was listening to a podcast through her earbuds, promptly took them out once she saw Natasha standing in her doorway. 

“Sorry Nat, I didn’t hear you. What’dcha say?”

She paused her podcast. 

“You were right… I like Pierre.”

She flopped down on Sonya’s bed. 

A big smile spread across Sonya’s face. 

“Y’know, I don’t want to say I told you so but I definitely told you so.”

“That’s not all. I think he doesn’t like me back.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He didn’t want to watch a movie with me. He said he had homework to do. Sonya, if he’d rather do homework than watch a movie with me then I don’t think he likes me at all.”

Natasha sighed a heavy sigh and sunk further and further into the mattress. 

“Maybe he just really had a lot of homework to do and didn’t have time for a movie. Did you think of that?”

The girl tried to console her cousin. 

“No. But still, what if he doesn’t like me back? He’s the only guy i've ever liked that’s actually considerate of how I feel, doesn’t take advantage of me. I know he’s good Sonya… what if this is my chance and I just didn't make the cut for Pierre Bezukhov? He probably likes girls like Helene. Wild, smart, pretty. Not dumb girls like me.”

“Hey now…”

Sonya leaned next to Natasha.

“You’re not dumb. You can be impulsive sometimes but you are nowhere near dumb. Remember that day last summer, the one where I came home crying because I thought Mary’s family didn't like me?”

“They still don’t like you.”

“That's besides the point. Anyway, I came home crying after meeting her family for the first time. Aunt Olga tried to help me feel better by making cookies, but that didn’t work. Mary tried to help me by reading to me on facetime, but that didn't help either. It was only until you came into my room, forced me to get into the car and drove me to that hiking trail that I felt better.”

“I still don’t understand how hiking made you feel better but okay.”

“Oh no the hike hurt like hell. My legs still hurt to this day.”

Sonya and Natasha laughed to each other, reminiscing about that day on the hiking trail. 

“It was after the hike. When we were standing on the cliffs edge, looking down on the entire city. All the glow of the tiny home’s and street lights illuminating the night sky… It was beautiful.”

“We weren’t even supposed to be there. I had to pay the security guard extra to get in.”

Natasha sat upright, and smiled at her cousin. 

“You’re the only one who would’ve thought about that. You are smart Nat.”

“I was just being a good cousin.”

“Say what you will, but you are one of the smartest people I know. You just have to open your eyes and see it.”

Sonya smiled back at her cousin, and the two shared a hug. 

“And what about Pierre? Do you think he sees that in me?”

“I think he does.”

“Thanks Sonya.”

Natasha smiled at her cousin. 

“You’re welcome Natasha.”

“Would you like to watch a movie with me?”

Natasha grabbed the remote and flicked on the tv. 

“I swear if we’re watching Hamilton again, I will cancel the Disney+ subscription.”

  
  
  
  
  


===

Vassily sat on the sofa in the living room. The faint tick of the clock rang in his ears. It only reminded him of the dwindling time he had to deliver the money to Andrey Bolkonsky. Who does that boy think he is? Manipulating an older, and wiser man like him. Then again, Nikolai Bolkonsky did the same to Thalia when she was in college, so he supposed the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. 

How was he going to get $5,000 dollars? 

Despite living in a miniature mansion, the Kuragina’s weren’t as well off as Vassily led on to the outside world. Other wealthy families in the Kuragina circle marveled at the poise and grace the Kuagina’s displayed, and now that they all feel pity for him on the passing of Thalia, he couldn’t let that image fade. Keeping the facade, and delivering the money were his main priorities at the moment. He prayed his children, Helene and Anatole, didn’t notice the financial instability. 

The power that the Bolkonsky’s hold is a power that was dared to be reckoned with. If Vassily did not return the money, he knew his consequences. He would be sent back to Russia and sent to jail under fraud. The danger that would put Helene and Anatole in… 

The inquisitions they have towards their mother’s past was already weighing down on Vassily. Too many things are weighing down on him. Part of him wanted to tell them everything. The cub, the affair, the payments - but at what expense? Losing the trust of the only people in this world who seem to care about him. Then again, maybe he’d already lost that. 

Helene said it herself - they deserve to know. 

The least he could do now was tell them the truth. 

Vassily sat up from his seat and walked to the stairs. He breathed a heavy sigh before taking a step. Not long after, Anatole heard a knock at his bedroom door. He sprang up to open it. 

“Yeah dad?” 

Anatole stared at his father. The dark circles under his eyes he hadn’t noticed before. And the graying scraggly beard that consumed his face. 

“Tell Fedya it is time to go home. And call your sister. Tell her she needs to come home. We need to have a talk as a family.”

Vassily turned to go back down the stairs. His steps were slow. 

“Call me if you need to talk after, okay Anatole?”

Fedya slipped behind the boy and made his way down the stairs. 

“Thanks Fedya.”

Anatole smiled, and closed the door.

Grabbing his phone off the bed, he pulled up Helene’s contact and pressed the phone to his ear. 

After a few moments, the line picked up. 

“Helene? You have to come home. I know you said this whole secret’s stuff is too overwhelming for you, but dad just announced a family meeting… I think we’re going to get our answers tonight.”

Helene responded back,

“I’m on my way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do any of yall happen to watch The Owl House on disney channel? I'm obsessed with it.  
> There's so many well written characters in that show oh my goodness, and the character designs are absolutely amazing. 10/10 would recommend. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading!  
> ~ Jordi


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm back, and I've got a new chapter for y'all.

Helene and Anatole sat on the couch, staring in silence as their father paced the room. The silence loomed in the air - thick and heavy. Helene had been sitting here for nearly five minutes without anyone saying a word. 

“Well… What do you have to tell us?” 

Anatole piped up. Vassily turned his head to his two children, teary eyed. 

“Before mom passed… she made some mistakes, to put it lightly… I had to quite literally pay for those mistakes she made - I’m still paying for them, trying to at least.” 

Vassily sat on an empty space on the coffee table. 

“What do you mean?” Helene inquired. Despite having already known a good portion of the story, there were still so many unanswered questions. 

“Before Anatole was born, your mother was involved in an affair with Nikolai Bolkonsky…”

Helene stared blankly back at her father, while Anatole looked down at his shoes, trying to process what was being said. 

“Bolkonsky was our college professor. Thalia began to date him in secret while she was dating me. The affair kept going after graduation. Once we found out about the baby, Thalia wanted to end things with Bolkonsky. But he disagreed. He threatened to expose her if she stopped it. That's when she told me about the affair. I offered to pay Bolkonsky whatever amount he wanted me to pay, just so long as the affair stayed between us. He asked me to pay $100,000. I still haven’t paid it off yet.” 

Vassily breathed a sigh. 

“What do you still owe him?” Anatole glared at his father.

“Five thousand.” Vassily ran a hand through his grey hair. 

“Okay, well I can find a job at the local cafe. I used to go there all the time when Fedya worked there. I’m sure the manager still remembers me.”

“I have to pay Bolkonsky by Wednesday night son… there’s nothing you can do now.”

“Are you saying we’re broke? We don’t have any money?”

Anatole sat up in his seat. 

“Your mother’s treatments… they were expensive… I started the charity galas as a way to pay Bolkonsky, but then when Thalia got sick, I had to take care of her. And now, I only have five thousand more to pay, with no money in my wallet.”

“If you can’t pay him, you’ll have to go back to Russia wouldn’t you?”

Helene turned her head towards her father, who simply nodded in response. 

“We would have to be sent to Russia, Helene… All of us.”

Anatole looked at Helene, with a scared expression on his face. 

“No… No, I can’t go back to Russia… What about Marya? I - What about Fedya, Anatole! We can’t go.”

Helene begged her father. 

“Love, if I could have it my way, we would stay here but Bolkonsky is an unforgiving man. There's nothing I can do.”

“This still doesn't explain the photograph though. Why is it burned? And who burned it?” Anatole asked Vassily. 

“Photograph? What photograph?”

Vassily shifted his eyes between Anatole and Helene.

“We found half of a photograph a while back. From what we could see it was a picture of you, mom and another man’s arm around mom. We did some sleuthing and found out it was Bolkonsky. We also found out who had the other half as well. Also Bolkonsky. But it's burned down the middle…”

Helene opened up her bag, and pulled out the photograph. She handed the photo to her father. 

He studied the photo. 

“This was your mother’s. In an attempt to prevent blackmail, she tried to destroy any evidence she could find. She burned the letters she had from Bolkonsky, she sold everything he ever bought for her. She must've kept this part of the photograph and gave the other half to Bolkonsky.”

Vassily returned the photo back to Helene. 

“Isn’t Bolkonsky sick? How is he making you do all this stuff?”

Anatole asked.

“It’s Andrey isn't it? He’s finishing what his father started.”

Helene said through gritted teeth. 

“That boy is a menace. I knew that when he started threatening Anatole.”

“If you don’t pay by Wednesday, how long do we have before we have to leave?”

“I don’t know… It's a good thing we still have a lot of stuff in the boxes right?”

Vassily tried to make light of the situation, but it only made Helene feel worse. 

“I’m going upstairs now. I don’t want to think about this anymore.”

Helene got up from her seat and began to walk to the stairs. 

“Wait, Helene… I wanted to talk to you. Not about mom or anything.”

Helene turned around, looking at her father.

Vassily then turned to Anatole, telling him he should leave the room. And with that, Anatole then rose from his seat. 

“I’m gonna go find somewhere to take pictures. Might as well get some cool photos while we still live here.”

Anatole grabbed his camera and car keys from off the counter, and left through the door. 

  
  


“You wanted to talk to me?”

Helene leaned on the doorway to the living room. 

“You’ve been so distant lately. Maybe it's because of school, but is there more to it that I should know about?”

Vassily glared at his daughter with a look of concern. 

“No, everything is okay.”

Helene’s nose began to scrunch and turn a light shade of pink.

“You're lying to me, but I guess it's fair… I haven't been the most honest either.”

Vassily and Helene both began to chuckle. 

“Everything isn’t okay. I’ve just been so overwhelmed. The mom thing, school, friends… there's just a lot on my plate.”

Helene breathed out a sigh, and plopped down on the sofa. 

“And how is school? I know you were in detention today - does that have something to do with the stress?”

Vassily asked the girl.

“I was in detention today, but that doesn't have to do with me being stressed. I was caught cheating on my math exam.”

“Cheating on your math exam? You love math, that doesn't sound like something you’d do.”

“I was helping Marya cheat on the math exam. We both were put in detention, which sounds bad, but it wasn’t as bad as you think.”

She began to blush.

“Hm, this Marya girl sounds like bad news. She’s got you cheating, thrown into detention…You must really like her.”

Helene whips her head to look at her father.

“You knew?”

“Knew you liked girls? No, but I had a feeling once you stayed over at her house more times than you stayed here in the past week.”

Vassily smiled to himself. 

“When I’m with Marya, everything else just fades away. She’s all I can think about. I just asked her to be my girlfriend today, and she agreed!... but now that we’ll be leaving soon, I should tell her. Let her know it has nothing to do with her. I hate seeing her sad.”

She felt a tear roll down her cheek. 

“Write her a letter then. Explain to her everything that happened. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“I hope so… Thanks dad.”

Helene looked up at her father. 

“You're welcome, Elena.”

======

“How’s your wrist baby? Is it doing better than before?”

Sonya pressed the phone to her ear. 

“Yeah, it's almost cleared up now. You can barely tell it was bruised.”

Mary looked down at her wrist. 

“That's good… if Andrey ever hurts you again, you come to me first okay? I can get someone else to take care of Bolkonsky, I just need to make sure you're safe.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. Andrey told me he stopped drinking. I think he’s making an effort. After he hurt me like that, I think it finally clicked that he needed to make a change.”

Mary flipped a page of her book. 

“Are you reading right now?”

Sonya smiled, before laying down in her bed. 

“Just a little bit before I head to bed. I didn't have much time to read at all today. Father had another episode, and Andrey was no help at all.”

Mary scoffed. 

“Mary, I know you don’t want to talk about this right now, but given everything that has happened, we have to talk about this. What are you going to do when your father passes? Andrey is going to inherit the house, but do you really want to stay with him? I don’t think you should.”

Mary could hear the concern in Sonya’s voice through the phone. 

“I have a plan hun, don't worry. Ever since middle school, I’ve been saving up all my money. I’m gonna buy a little one person apartment.”

She looked over at her jewelry box that contained the small stash. 

“I don’t have much as of right now, but I’ll just continue to collect money until I can move out.”

Mary set her book down on her lap. 

“Mary… would you like to stay with me? You can live here with my aunt and Nat! We wouldn't charge you rent either. You can stay in the spare room in the back. I’m sure my aunt wouldn't mind.”

Sonya blinked back a few tears.

“I just want my girl to be safe.”

“But who would take care of him? And I would have to pay them to do so.”

Mary protested.

“The hospital across the street from the library has volunteer caretakers on standby. I can go after work, and appoint one of them to your father. Mary, when I tell you I have everything under control, I mean it. You just have to trust me bubs.”

Sonya wanted nothing more than to hold Mary in her arms right now. 

“I trust you… I’ll start packing my things tomorrow okay?”

Mary wiped a tear rolling down her face. 

“Okay. I’ll let you get back to your book now.”

“Can I read you some? I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

Mary asked her girlfriend. 

With a small smile on her face, Sonya answered back,

“Of course lovely.”

And Mary began reading to Sonya, and Sonya swore she could listen to that sweet voice all night long….

That is until she fell asleep, and Mary whispered  _ “goodnight”,  _ before hanging up the phone. 

=====

Natasha held the phone close to her face. The screen illuminated the darkness of the room. 

_ Should I text Pierre? _

_ No, he's probably sleeping _

_ But what if he’s not sleeping…. _

“Ughhhhh!” Natasha clicked her phone off, and rolled onto her side. 

She could hear Mary talking through Sonya’s phone, as Mary would often read Sonya to bed. 

_ They’re so in love… _ she thought to herself. 

Picking up her phone again, she debated on whether or not she should call Pierre, instead of texting him. Maybe hearing his voice would be… cathartic in a way?

She dialed his number.

The phone rang for a few seconds before a husky  _ “hello?”  _ came through on the other end. 

“Hey Pierre. It's Natalie… Are you… Are you mad at me?”

Natasha sat upright in her bed. 

“Huh? Why would I be mad at you?”

Pierre tried to understand what the girl was saying. The phone had awoken him from his slumber, so he was pretty out of it. 

“Last night, you didn't want to watch a movie with me. I thought it was because I did something wrong.”

“Natasha, can I ask you something?”

Pierre pushed his glasses up. 

“Yeah, what is it?”

Natasha responded.

“Am I a joke to you?”

Pierre said, quite bitterly. 

“Wha - Pierre, where are you getting this from?”

Natasha answered, kind of taken aback by the question. 

“It's just that, you're you. Beautiful, amazing, talented…. And I’m me. And so when you said  _ “wouldn't it be funny if we dated.”  _ It kind of felt like an insult. I mean, who am I to think that Natalya Rostova would fall for simple Pierre.”

Natasha’s cheeks began to glow red. 

“Pierre, I like you.”

“No, I know you like me Natasha, but I like you more than a friend.”

Pierre answered back. 

“Pierre… I like you… more than a friend.”

The girl smiled into the phone, and oh how she wished Pierre could see it. 

“You - You do?”

His face was a mixture of shock, excitement, and disbelief all at once. 

“Yeah, how could I not? You literally saved my life, remember?”

“Okay, it wasn’t just me that helped save you. Anatole and Dolokhov were there too.”

Pierre chuckled, and so did Natasha. 

“But it's true? You really like me?”

Pierre asked one last time.

“Yes, Pierre. I like you. And if it's alright with you, I’d like to take you out on a date this Wednesday?”

“I - Yes! Yes! Of course… where are we going?”

“That's a surprise.”

“Okay… do I have to dress up?”

“No, casual wear is fine. Unless you want to dress up.”

“No, I think I’ll just wear a sweater and jeans… is that alright?”

“That’s perfect.”

“What time on Wednesday?”

“10pm.”

“10pm? That is very specific.”

“I have something very specific in mind.”

Natasha sank down further into her bed, cozying up underneath the covers. 

“It's a date then… I’ll see you Wednesday night..I hope you have a great sleep Natasha.”

“You too Bezukhov.”

Pierre hung up the phone, and Natasha couldn't help but text in the groupchat. 

**Nat:** Guys, I just asked Pierre out on a date!!!!

**Fed - Ya - Daddy:** ayyyeee sweet Nat! 

**Marya:** Natasha, I am happy for you but sweetheart it's 3am, go to bed please... you too Fedya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are able to please please please vote. If you've already voted by mail, thank you. If you're planning on voting on Nov.3rd, make sure you know where your polling place is, and stay safe! The lines might be long this year so pack some water and snacks. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> ~ Jordi

**Author's Note:**

> first time ever writing a fic. I think its kinda good so far.   
> also Fedya is amazing   
> thanks for reading!  
> ~ Jordi


End file.
